


Rest for the Wicked

by b00mgh



Series: Twelve Days of Ficmas 2019 [9]
Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: (i probably don't do the bullying justice i'm sorry in advance), 12 Days of Ficmas, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Ash Lynx Has Daddy Issues, Ash Lynx Lives, Ash Lynx Needs A Hug, Ash Lynx and Okumura Eiji Go to Japan, BAMF Okumura Eiji, Birthday, Bullying, Eiji and Ash Are Cuties, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Family Feels, Father Figures, First Dates, Fix-It of Sorts, Hurt/Comfort, I have taken godlike liberties with canon, Ibe Shunichi Worries, Injury Recovery, Lee Yut Lung has half a moral compass, M/M, Nightmares, Okumura Eiji Needs a Hug, Okumura Eiji's Family Are Wonderful, Parental Max Lobo, Pet Names, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sick Ash Lynx, Sing Soo-Ling Is a Good Kid, Sir this is my emotional support chef, Trauma, We get there when we get there, actual tags now:, and its a looong bitch, are you in for a ride, bc i actually have this prewritten, but not for long bitchessss, episode 24 references, those are separate tags for a reason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:22:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 76,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21915178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b00mgh/pseuds/b00mgh
Summary: Eiji (and everyone who isn't a. dead or b. a complete dumpster fire of a human being) rescues Ash from Golzine's disgustingly filthy fingers, but then Ash decides to accept Eiji's offer to go to Japan with him. There, he meets Eiji's mother (the physical embodiment of motherly love, who really should be asking more questions, but doesn't because of how she met her husband), his sister (a genius-IQ NEET who only leaves the house under extreme duress), his father (an international businessman who prefers to release moths outside instead of killing them), the owner of a nearby family restaurant (who would appreciate it if someone could help him out during the tourist season), and many other wonderful friends! The question quickly becomes: How does an ex-gang leader with a kill count likely in the triple digits adjust to normal, suburban life in Japan?
Relationships: Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji, Okumura Eiji's Mom/Okumura Eiji's Dad
Series: Twelve Days of Ficmas 2019 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570897
Comments: 702
Kudos: 594
Collections: 10/10 Would Reread





	1. Pacing, but Not In a Straight Line

The plan hinges on Ibe booking two tickets back to Japan. It hinges on Max showing up to the bar every night to drink himself half stupid and to act like he’s drunk himself all the way stupid. It hinges on Sing gritting his teeth when Yut Lung mentions Ash. It hinges on Eiji not leaving his apartment for any reason, or even opening the blinds, after the date of his and Ibe’s supposed plane ride. It hinges on Kong and Bones acting as though they have taken over Ash’s post as leader. It hinges on everyone else thinking, seeing, and believing that every ally Ash had has given up on him.

Of course, behind safe and closed doors, they’ll do nothing of the sort. 

It’s just until the party. After the party, they’ll have Ash back and this time they won’t let him go.

Kong and Bones keep the gang in check, they go over the plan until they have it memorized better than any theorem they should have learned in school, and it’s been perfected to a science. Eiji, before the plane leaves, spends as much time at the shooting range as he can, and Sing teaches him the basics of a fight: since you’re little and kinda helpless, Sing tells him, you’re gonna have to go for the vitals and not hesitate, and run when you can. Sing meets with Yut Lung as often as Yut Lung requests, and he seems to be as suspicious as he should be, but after the plane leaves he doesn’t mind much. Max begrudgingly ambles into the bar each night, the picture of hopeless and grieving, and the fact that he always leaves in tears certainly helps. Ibe buys two plane tickets that will be filled by two vacation-happy gangsters bearing a vague similarity to himself and Eiji. 

After the plane leaves comes the calm before the storm, and all movement from all parties halts. Yut Lung’s rats stop tailing everyone quite so aggressively. Sing holes himself up with his closest constituents in their base of operations, a disused shell of a building that would have been the mostly-completed construction of an apartment complex had there not been so many gangs in New York tampering with things like stocks and real estate. Eiji and Ibe are hiding out in one of these apartments– and Sing has given them the convenience of a cheap fridge and microwave. Kong and Bones, despite their instincts telling them to do as their Boss told them, to keep Eiji safe and don’t leave him alone, cut off all communications with any part of Sing’s network, the apartment complex with Eiji and Ibe included. Max drinks himself stupid, goes home, pretends to not look for jobs, drinks some more– and the drinking is much more for show than anyone else knows.

Every person on every facet of the plan to save Ash pretends, for three days before the party, that they hardly even know each other. No communication. Not so much as a glance on the street. They keep routine like they have to. Congruity is their only ally, and doing anything out of the ordinary jeopardizes it. 

It’s agonizing. Ibe keeps asking Eiji to sit down, eat something, calm down. Eiji gets a little closer to snapping at him every time, and Ibe can see that in the sharpness his eyes acquire. Where was that torn-paper pole-vaulter from Japan? As much as Eiji had rubbed off on Ash, like the ocean on a stone, rounding his cutting points and softening the frown from his face, Ash had rubbed off on Eiji, like lightning on sand, hardening his core and sharpening his edges. 

“I’ve got a bad feeling, Ibe– I don’t think Ash is doing well.” Eiji’s still pacing. The wood creaks in one spot if he steps there, so his pacing isn’t quite a straight line because he goes around it. 

Ibe doesn’t ask him how he can be so certain of that– even though he’s pretty sure that Ash is fine. That boy’s always been smart enough to keep himself out of harm’s way, even protect Eiji through the worst of anything, there’s no way Golzine could break him. Ibe’s sure of it. Eiji, on the other hand, avoids the creaking wooden plank in the floor while he paces. 

“It’s Ash,” Ibe tries to console Eiji, “he can handle himself.”

Eiji whirls, and Ibe is ready for a sharp retort, but he’s not ready for Eiji to turn on him, tears in his eyes, and plead for understanding. “Ibe, he’s terrified– all the time, he’s always scared.”

“Everyone’s always scared, Eiji. Especially when there’s a gang trying to take them out.”

Eiji’s grasping at straws– it’s six hours until go-time and the bad feeling he’s got just keeps growing in the pit of his stomach. “He’s like, he’s like–” and Eiji snatches at an actual paper straw from the lunch one of Sing’s people had brought them, “he’s like this.” Before Ibe can start asking him what that means, Eiji carefully, very carefully, like the straw really was Ash in Eiji’s hands, stands the straw up on a table. Then he grabs a book and balances it on the straw. Under the weight, once Eiji removes his hands, the straw snaps in half. 

Ibe goes cold in the bones. 

But he’s the adult here– well, the adultier adult– so he sighs a little too dramatically and says “Eiji, Ash is not a straw. He wouldn’t snap like that.”

“I’ve  _ seen  _ it.”

“He– He’s not a straw, Ei-chan. He’s a person.” Ibe’s trying to fix this, for Eiji and for the hollowness he can feel infecting him. “You ever break a bone? It grows back, better than before. Ash wouldn’t break, but even if he does, he’s a person, and people grow back.”

There’s a pause, and color drains from both of their faces. Eiji’s studying something on the floor, and Ibe knows he’s already way out of his depth so he lets Eiji sort it out for himself. Eventually, a decision is reached. There’s fractured glass in the way Eiji’s shoulders sag.

“Ash is a person,” Eiji whispers, and it seems to give him some relief. “Not a straw,” and he moves the book back to its spot and throws away the straw. “A person.”

Ibe’s shivering now, wondering how close Eiji just came to snapping like that straw, shattering like glass, wondering if Ash is as resilient as he’s just claimed, steady as a stone, wondering if it’ll be possible– or even moral– to separate them after all this is done, the sand from the waves. 

He gets Eiji to eat something before go-time, but Eiji eats with a guilty look and says Ash must not be eating well. Ibe doesn’t ask how he can tell, just frowns at his own plate.


	2. A Chinese gang, an American gang, a journalist, and two foreigners walk into a party...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context \/ \/ \/
> 
> Ibe: the twelve-year-old told me to practice first aid until he got back, so I've wrapped myself in enough gauze to protect my soul from the inevitable pain of failure and death
> 
> Sing: if ONE more person tries to stop Kong and Bones from dancing together that person WILL catch these hands
> 
> Yut Lung: We've been played!  
> Blanca: No, YOU have been played. Like a fiddle. I have been in a front-row audience seat this whole time.
> 
> Max: oh shit I'm late to being drunk

The most dangerous part of the plan is the entrance and the escape– they are the only two parts that compromise congruity. Everyone is more worried about the entrance because that is the part where the hired security will all be alive. 

Sing, his people, Kong, Bones, and other members of Ash’s gang will arrive as invited guests. Sing got an invitation from Yut Lung– who has apparently wrapped Golzine far enough around his finger to get what he wants even at an event like this. Ash’s gang was invited by Golzine of all people, with a cordial and formal invitation that sets everyone’s teeth on edge about what he’s planning. That leaves Max and Eiji, who will be the ones extracting Ash, and Ibe, who has opted to stay out of everyone’s way in the apartment, and stocked with medical supplies at Sing’s suggestion (Ibe’s not sure if it’s an American thing or a Chinese thing or an exception to both that has a kid that young running something so dark so well, but he’s got a computer with internet pulled up to a Japanese site on basic first aid).

A limo for each gang, with the passengers decked in suits, and an hour later a catering truck for Eiji and Max, with the both of them in matching uniforms. 

No earpieces for communication. If you can hear through it, someone else can see it, and that compromises congruity. Everyone just has to trust each other and trust the plan– and between a Chinese gang, a New York gang, a journalist, and two foreigners, they’re doing their best. 

Max has been to war, and this has the same spirit with different energy– all coiled up and still like the march without the release of the trigger. He can see a young soldier in Eiji’s eyes, one that knows what he’s fighting for and one who will die for it. He hates that look. Griff had that look, and he hadn’t been the only one either. Hates that look.

“He’s a person,” Eiji says without warning. “Ash is a person.” His eyes are hollow and filled with fire. Hates that look. Hates how ominous those words sound. 

“We’ll get there in time,” Max counters, “He’s gonna be okay.”

Eiji doesn’t look quite into his eyes but he may as well have. “I know he will. I’m going to make sure of it.” Hates how much that sounds like a martyr’s last words.

They take down two of the hotel staff and change into those outfits once they’re in the delivery garage, and the catering truck leaves them there. That same driver will be in a cab in an alleyway three blocks West and one block North of the hotel in forty minutes. They have twenty-five to find Ash, and from Sing’s intelligence they know he’ll be locked in a room until the start of the sixth hour of the party. To Max, it feels like playing Mario: endless levels unfolding in front of you and the princess is always in another castle. To Eiji, it feels like purgatory: hellish with a dimming light at the end of the tunnel. 

But they know their plan, and they have congruity in their hotel staff uniforms and they have lethality in the guns on their hips and the knives on their calves. Max hates the muddiness of it all. Fight or don’t fight, but pick one. But that’s not how mobs operate in New York City, and so he’s forced into the gray zone. Hates the dirt crawling under his skin.

Eiji has no problem with all of this. No problem at first glance. But if you know where to look you can see the fine line between adaptation and tolerance, and it is very fine, and it’s in the tightness of his jawline. Not no problem, he’s just bearing with it. Max can understand that. It’s just harder when you’ve been in a war, and now you have to go trudging back through the mud. Hates the mud.

Sing’s suit doesn’t sit quite right on his shoulders. The fit is fuckin perfect but it doesn’t sit right because he can feel the money wafting off of it and he can’t stand the way that sits with him. Sing inherited a gang, but he’s startin to feel like he hates runnin one way more’n bein in one. Sing hates all these fuckin rich pricks and their fake smiles and their fuckin perfect-fit suits. 

But he’s still gonna do it because Shorter woulda wanted him to save his best friend. Ash may’ve killed Shorter, but the way everyone keeps mutterin about it, sounds more like a mercy kill. Sing saw a TV show, one of the fuckin zombie ones that are all kinda the same, it was just on the TV one night, a long time ago, and this guy had to kill his own brother because he was bit. Sing keeps havin nightmares that the brother with the gun is Shorter, and the zombie one is Ash. Feels fuckin backwards, but not like Sing can help what he dreams. 

“Three down total,” a rat mutters as they pass by him on their way to the buffet table. They don’t make it look like they said nothin and Sing don’t make it look like that neither. The rats are right on track. By the time Max gets Eiji to Ash, the party will only have fifteen security guards left. By the time Golzine goes upstairs to get Ash ready to come down, there won’t be any. Sing’s got a real good poker face, and it wins him every game, but he’s a kid at Christmas right now– specifically, Kevin McAllister.

Sing can see Kong and Bones nervous chatter to a lady who looks like her swaddling cloth was golden fuckin silk. She laughs at somethin they said, and the face they make at each other means they didn’t tell a joke. Pretty fuckin quick, and with bright red faces, they make some sort of excuse to get away from her. 

Sing would rather be anywhere but here, but this is what Shorter would do, and Sing’ll do anything to feel a little closer to him. Never even got to say goodbye to the bastard, and he won’t be seein him for a few years yet. At least gotta clean up the fuckin mess he didn’t have a chance to.

Max tackles Eiji behind the ice dispenser. Two guards amble by, one is half drunk and the other looks severely disappointed in him. They seem to know each other pretty well, but Max doesn’t think about that. Hates remembering that even evil has humanity. 

Sing’s rats will be by for them shortly anyway. 

He and Eiji hide because, even with silencers, they don’t have the skillset to kill these two and keep clean about it. That, and Eiji has never killed someone before. Max would hate to be the one to get the train started. So they hide. 

“You been upstairs?”

“Course I been upstairs, you drunk bastard, I been on so many stairs I ain’t gonna be able to walk after tonight.”

“Nah, I mean the  _ penthouse _ .”

“Fuck, Christian, what’d you do?”

“Golzine keeps a kitten on a leash up there.”

The ice machine starts up, and it gets harder to hear them, but they’re moving closer anyway, at their own, slow pace. 

Max misses what the sober one says.

“He doesn’t fight back– they did somethin’ to him, I don’t think he can.”

“Christian, you sick fucking bastard.”

“He’s so thin, it’s almost like one of the hookers that hang out downtown–”

And then he shuts the fuck up because Max has planted a fucking bullet between his eyes. The other guy doesn’t even have time to make a noise, too surprised by his friend’s brain sprayed on his face, and Max shoots him too. All Max can hear is the ice machine rattling away. 

Hates how easy it was to do that.

He assumes Eiji will hate it too, but then he turns around and he can see that he has actually just spared Eiji two bullets, and has spared these men a less professional, more painful death.

“Ash,” Eiji whispers to Christian’s corpse, “is a  _ person _ .”

The garbage chute can fit a full grown man if you put him in right, but they don’t put the first guy in right, and he slides, sticking in places, about as fast as he had been walking before. They put the second guy in right, and the weight of him pushes them both all the way through. The carpet has a red stain, but the carpet is already a modern shade of black, so it justs looks like any other color would if it were spilled on black carpet. Maybe the real hotel staff will think it’s wine. 

“Penthouse,” Eiji reminds them both.

Hates all 50 flights of stairs. 

Yut Lung doesn’t so much think anything is amiss as he feels it. He’s in a gorgeous dress, but all eyes are on the fat fuck in the unflattering tuxedo. Golzine will make some sort of move tonight, and knowing him it will be disgusting at best, horrific at worst. The fact that Ash won’t even emerge until the sixth hour does nothing to abate the feeling, and Yut Lung pulls his wrap a little tighter. 

“Cold?” Blanca asks, and Yut Lung tries not to start; Blanca has been there the whole time, shadowing him with less presence than his actual shadow. 

“You could say,” Yut Lung murmurs. His eyes swing across the room. Dance music sings from a small orchestra, but there’s just a few members of Ash’s former gang dancing. Food overflows from the exorbitant buffet, but only Sing has grabbed a plate. The unease regarding Golzine falls away like a stone off an ocean cliff and Yut Lung realizes all at once what’s going on. 

Blanca notices the change in demeanor, his eyes have hardly left Yut Lung since the party started. “Heading upstairs, are we?”

“You’ve known, haven’t you?” Yut Lung asks, simply and a little viciously.

“I knew the moment they walked into the room, Mr. Yut Lung.”

To Yut Lung, the elevator feels like it’s mocking him as it slowly slides up fifty floors to the penthouse. 

“You’ve got fifteen minutes,” Max reminds Eiji. Max will not be helping Eiji with this one, as much as he’d like to. No earpieces. Someone has to tell Sing and Kong to get everyone out of the hotel, and make sure the security is all very, surely dead. They’ll be meeting in one week, optimistically, at Ash’s old house way out in the middle of bumblefuck, nowhere. Until then, more radio silence between all parties. This is the last time he’ll see Eiji for a week, and only one more week until he can make sure Ash is okay. Hates all seven of the days before they’ve even started. 

“I’ll keep him safe,” Eiji promises, with the closest thing to that boyish smile that had once hung like a permanent decoration on his face.

Max pats his shoulder, “Keep yourself safe too,” and then he runs back down the stairs. All fifty fucking flights. 

Hates that Eiji will be doing this alone. 

In the ballroom, he makes casual eye contact with Sing, who turns and grabs a biscuit from the desert table. The rats have done their work. Everyone is ready to move out. Kong and Bones pause their dancing to make glancing eye contact, then Kong twirls Bones like a princess and Max walks into the kitchen, out the back door, and he gets into the minivan in the back corner of the lowest level of the parking garage. Hates to be the first out, but he drives to his apartment anyway to change and be half drunk in a bar within 90 minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Decided on an update schedule for this baby (barring certain unavoidable events in the future) and it is as follows: Mondays.   
> Hopefully that'll give a few people a nice way to start the week ;D  
> Scream at me in the comments section, nothing brings me more joy!


	3. The Happiness of a Toilet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context \/ \/ \/
> 
> Eiji: hey what's up youtube and welcome to my channel, today we'll be meeting my future husband  
> Ash: Eiji pls just let me die  
> Eiji: feel free to leave a like and subscribe, and lemme know what you think down in the comment section below
> 
> Yut Lung: cant u see i am HEARTBROKEN  
> Blanca: wanna go get a hamburger  
> Yut Lung: WHAT PART OF HEARTBROKEN DO U NOT UNDERSTAND YES I WANT A HAMBURGER
> 
> Golzine: I am the King of Surprises. I am Vigilant. Nothing Gets Past Me.   
> Lesbians: haha that's funny, u absolute dumbfuck of a man
> 
> Eiji: how do we know these ppl?  
> Sing: I already told ya it's Shorter's sister's ex's cousin's family's friend's roommate's brother's boyfriend's family's window-washing business.

Eiji notices that the penthouse door is unlocked and Christian’s words feel like knives in his brain. Ash is laying on the bed as naked as the day he was born and shivering. All of his bones stick out like they’re broken, but they’re in the right spots. He had been right: Ash hasn’t been eating well. Eiji hears his mother’s voice telling him to eat more, and wishes he could remember all of her recipes. 

“Ash?” 

He doesn’t move for a second, but then starts upright with a panicked look on his face. “Eiji?” he whispers it, his eyes casting around looking for something to register, anything. Eiji realizes he can’t see.

“Right here,” and he approaches the bed noisily and gently, so Ash can hear every single movement, “It’s just me.” 

Eiji’s hand settles on Ash’s shoulder, and Ash’s body can’t seem to decide between flinching away or melting into the touch. His mind can’t decide between laughing and sobbing. He does all four. “Kill me, Eiji. Please, kill me. If it’s you, I can die happy.”

“I am  _ not  _ going to kill you, Ash.”

And then the laughing stops and Ash is just crying, curling in on himself. “You’re not real, are you? The real Eiji would kill me.”

“I am  _ very  _ real,” Eiji says sharply, “and everyone went through way too much trouble for you to die on us here.” He takes a deep breath. Calms himself down. Ash is broken in half, but not like a straw. Ash is a person, and people can heal. Ash is a person. “Let’s get you some clothes,” Eiji suggests, and he finds them all over the floor. 

“Is it alright for a toilet to be this happy?” Ash asks, once again laughing and crying and melting into the bed and flinching at every movement of the air conditioning. 

Something in Eiji snaps right in half, like a paper straw, and he whirls around, pants in hand, and says “You’re not a toilet, you’re a person, Ash.” There’s a bark of laughter, and no real response. Ash wobbles on his feet but he does change himself, to Eiji’s relief. 

“Let’s go,” Eiji starts, but then restarts, “Can you walk?” Between shivering with the cold and collapsing back into the bed after pulling his pants on, Eiji isn’t sure. 

“Well enough,” Ash mumbles. There’s not enough energy in it for it to be convincing.

Blanca is somehow even quieter than Yut Lung, despite being twice the size, and Yut Lung isn’t sure if he can get used to that. It’s an awfully large shadow to cast, and Yut Lung is acutely aware of it. They’re stepping out of the elevator and the door to the penthouse is already open. 

Yut Lung hates Okumura Eiji all over again, and this time just for being stupid and careless.

Eiji’s got a silenced pistol aimed at a window when they walk in, and Yut Lung pointedly clears his throat to stop him. Somehow Ash, who has been staring in no particular direction, just then notices him, and that’s the first clue that something is wrong with him. The second clue is that half of his buttons are done wrong. The third is that he’s shaking like a leaf, and emaciated to a skeletal appearance. 

Yut Lung hates Dino Golzine all over again, and this time for a more personal reason. 

Both boys whip around, and while Ash’s eyes roam without landing on anything, Eiji’s eyes lock with Yut Lung, glance at Blanca, linger on Ash, and he sets the pistol on the disgruntled sheets. There’s a wheelchair on the other side of the room, and he grabs that and wheels it next to the bed instead.

“I wanted  _ you _ broken, not him,” Yut Lung hisses, surely looking as small and frail as he feels in the ensconcing shadow of Blanca’s towering form.

Eiji doesn’t even pause, doesn’t flinch at the vitriol or malice, just scoops Ash up in his arms, sets him in the wheelchair and explains, “Well, both of us can’t be broken at the same time. Let’s get Ash back to himself, and then you can break me in any way you like.” It’s calm and simple and unyielding and immutable. He says it the same way Ash had said “give me a loaded gun” in that warehouse. 

A string snaps, pulled too tight and finally meeting a sharp end, in Yut Lung’s soul, and he gives up. What can he do to get in between two men who would end their own life, shatter their own souls, to keep the other out of harm’s way? 

He whips around and leaves them. “We saw nothing,” he snaps at Blanca, who smiles warmly and nods, placing an affectionate hand on his shoulder. 

In the ballroom, Sing has deserted the buffet and Kong and Bones have fled the dance floor. Yut Lung suspects that they have gathered their respective gangs and left, and he suspects that nobody will be seeing anything from them for a few weeks. 

Golzine makes his way across the room to Yut Lung, and Yut Lung really wishes he wouldn’t. “Yut Lung,” he greets placidly, smugly, glibly, “you look beautiful.”

“You flatter me, Monsieur,” it’s a pretty lie, and Yut Lung would rather spit the words into the fat fuck’s disgusting mustache. “Tell me, what is this surprise you taunt us all with?”

“All in good time, all in good time,” and he smiles like he’s won. Yut Lung returns the same smile. He still hates Eiji, but if he’s got to pick sides he’ll pick the one that doesn’t reek so badly the way his older brothers did.

The first hitch in the plan comes when the penthouse window requires a key to be opened. Given that the first thing Ash did was to ask Eiji to kill him, this might have been smart on Golzine’s part. Still, it means that Eiji can’t open the window to get to the window-washer platform that Shorter’s sister’s ex’s family left there this afternoon. But Eiji does have a gun, and he can’t afford to be afraid to use it.

The second hitch in the plan is Yut Lung’s arrival with his very large friend. Eiji can’t win against that, couldn’t even try. He puts Ash in the wheelchair on the other side of the room because if he were able to walk he would have stood up and done something. But he still sits, shivering and dull-eyed and hardly responsive on the bed, with all his buttons done wrong. 

Somehow, Yut Lung must hate Eiji a little less because he takes his large and amiable friend and they close and lock the door behind them. 

Ten minutes, four blocks, and fifty stories to go. 

So Eiji shoots the first of his 17 bullets into the glass of the window, which shatters and then drops out, either into the penthouse suite or down, down, down, ahead of them to the concrete fifty floors below. A brusque wind surges through the new, gaping wound. Ash’s teeth start chattering, and he locks his jaw against it. Eiji puts the thick material of the hotel staff uniform’s outer coat around Ash’s shoulders and wheels him out onto the window washing platform. 

Ash doesn’t look down, just straight into Eiji’s eyes, despite probably not being able to see them, and he whispers “Eiji, I hate heights.” He’d never say that to anyone else, because there isn’t certainty that somebody else wouldn’t use it against him.

With a wry smile, Eiji answers “it’ll be a short trip.” 

“What if I fall?”

“I’d never let you.”

There’s a button attached to the railing that will control the height of the platform, and Shorter’s sister’s ex’s cousin has rigged this one to go much faster than it normally should. Dangerous, yes, but also probably too fast for anyone looking out the window to be sure that it’s them. 

He hadn’t planned on Ash being in a wheelchair. Well, Eiji’ll figure it out. He has to. Can’t count on Ash to get them out of everything. 

“Have you heard the rumors?” Dia asks. She’s always been a slut for gossip– and for Angela. 

And Angela hasn’t yet found a time when she wouldn’t indulge her, so she wraps both arms around Dia’s middle and replies, “About Golzine’s ‘surprise’? I really hope it’s that he’s got stage four terminal cancer.”

Dia laughs superficially, “Don’t we all, but, Ang, I’m serious. I heard he’s announcing his engagement!”

“Who’d marry that crusty lump of lard?” And it’s a talent of hers to say something so crass while planting adoring kisses up Dia’s neck. 

Dia, arching into Angela’s touch, smiles and says, “Bold of you to assume the poor broad’s got a choice.”

“Bold of you to assume it’s a broad, darlin’.” Angela pulls back, drawing a whining moan from Dia, and leans back on her hands. “Anyways. That’s not what I heard.”

“And what did you hear?” Now Dia’s working her way down Angela’s body with her hands, fiddling with all the straps and buttons.

“I heard–” and there goes the fucking window washers, zipping way too fast and obstructing Angela and Dia’s view of the New York City night for just long enough to see that it’s not the window washers, it’s two boys holding onto each other for dear life and sitting in a chair. How’d they even get a chair on the platform?

Dia’s getting impatient, and she unzips Angela’s suit pants. “You’d think they’d keep better security at a ritzy place like this,” she mutters. But Angela’s a little too distracted by what Dia’s hands are doing to respond.

Neither of them even remember what they were talking about within a few seconds.


	4. Cold and Stuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context \/\/\/
> 
> Dress: fabulous  
> Ash: escaped  
> Golzine: enraged  
> Yut Lung is forcibly removed before the police can catch him.
> 
> Ash: i am DRUGGED and AFRAID and ALONE  
> Eiji: I'm literally right here  
> Ash: you're a good person, you don't count
> 
> Ibe, around people: *panics in English*   
> Ibe, when he's alone: *panics in Japanese*
> 
> Sing: if you young whippersnappers would shut up, I am TRYING to watch the news. You know what, get out of the house for a while, go adopt some kids or somn idfc.   
> Max: I will adopt you, how's that  
> Sing: over my dead fucking body  
> Max: let's get you some ice cream, baby boi
> 
> Look out for a Welcome to Nightvale reference?

The limo ride is tense, quiet. If they haven’t been caught yet, this’ll be when they would be. Kong and Bones rounded up the troops and left fifteen minutes ago to their cover pub. They’ll stay there and keep a low profile for a week before they even start fuckin patrolling again. Sing’s got his rats collected, and there’s thirty dead security guards but he hasn’t lost one. He’s fuckin proud. They’re going to their base, a different one, a disused convenience store, where they’ll do much the same as Ash’s gang.

In one week, Sing’ll meet with Eiji, Max, Ibe, and Ash in Ash’s childhood home in the country. It’s weird to think Ash had a fuckin childhood– to Sing it kinda just seems like Ash showed up one day, fully capable of doing anything thrown at him. He’s never seen him with his guard down, never seen him weak, and that’s precisely why he let Max and Eiji go upstairs even if he could be stealthier about it. He’s not ready to meet his heroes. 

“Boss, we’re here.”

Not caught then. Then if anyone’s goin down tonight, anyone on their side, it’ll be Eiji. Sing’s sure he can handle it– he’s got no other fuckin choice, after all. 

Inside, shelving units have been maneuvered into walls, the windows have been boarded up, there’s piss-stained mattresses on the floor with a few blankets scattered around. It’s as home as anywhere else. And, more importantly, it’s where the fuckin chauffer Golzine had them use will tell the rich prick they went. If he gets suspicious, if Yut Lung gets suspicious, they’ll look here and they’ll look at the fuckin cover pub. The disused apartments will fall by the wayside.

They’ll be looking in all the wrong places. Sing tells his rats to rest up, and he does the same. The picture of fuckin innocence. 

Golzine comes lumbering down the stairs, the bear finally awakened from his dumb hibernation. Yut Lung smiles, a cat pleased with its mischief. When Golzine makes eye contact, crazed and vicious and still very dumb, Yut Lung wanders aimlessly into a more discreet hallway of the hotel, and Blanca follows with a laugh that never leaves his lips. 

Golzine corners Yut Lung and says “You did this, didn’t you?”

Yut Lung smiles thinly.

“ _ DIDN’T YOU?” _

“I have no idea what you mean, Monsieur.” 

Blanca rolls his eyes playfully. 

“You dumb bitch– I will not be taken for a fool!” and Golzine raises his hand to slap Yut Lung, but his hand never connects, and Yut Lung does not flinch, because Blanca has snapped Golzine’s neck– as per his contract.

“My apologies, Monsieur,” Blanca says to the corpse, “but you moved a head against Yut Lung, and I can’t stand for that.” Blood begins to pool on Golzine’s tongue and spill from his lips. Nobody is sad to see him go. Blanca wishes he had done that fifteen years ago, at the airport before his flight to the Carribean; or maybe even sooner, when he saw Ash’s tiny face contort with embarrassment as Golzine told him to sit on his lap; or maybe even sooner, when he met the man all those years before. But Yut Lung has given him a perfect excuse, and better late than never. 

cold cold cold cold cold “eiji” cold cold cold 

warm hand

“still right here ash”

streets people cold cold they are staring  _ stop staring _ cold cold cold cold

“hes not here the driver isnt here”

“where are we going” hate the sound of my voice 

“a safehouse some disused apartments downtown” cold cold

__ cold cold cold staring  _ NEED TO BE BETTER NEED TO BE SMARTER NEED TO KEEP HIM SAFE _

gunshot ricochet off of bricks eiji is bleeding its not deadly  _ KEEP HIM SAFE _ moving fast too fast too fast cant see cant see cant see cold cold cold

eiji gunshot he hit someone body hits the ground its not deadly eiji has not killed 

“whats going on”

“golzine must have realized i took you there are men trying to kill us”  _ GOLZINE HATRED HATRED HATRED  _ cold cold cold cold  _ KEEP HIM SAFE _

cant see

footsteps 

“eiji” 

“eiji” cold cold cold

“eiji” cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold cold

gunshot body hits the ground cold cold cold cold gunshot gunshot gunshot gunshot body hits the ground eiji is in pain  _ KEEP HIM SAFE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE KEEP HIM SAFE _ gunshot gunshot body hits the ground car explodes car alarm bodies hit the ground cold cold hot but still cold  _ eiji _

“ash are you okay”

“eiji”

“just a scratch dont worry” lies cold “just a few more blocks ash”

eiji eiji eiji eiji eiji cant see

doorway warm picks me up almost drops me eiji is bleeding wet 

“ibe can you help me get him upstairs” 

“i can walk”

heavy breathing eiji is bleeding 

“last step dont trip”

“i wont”

“how bad is it eiji”

“hm”

“youre bleeding”

“its not a big deal”

“eiji what the hell happened you look like you lost a fight with a cheese grater”

eiji is bleeding bleeding bleeding  _ KEEP HIM SAFE _ lies cold cold cold cold cold

“it looks worse than it is ibe” cant see missing something what am i missing

“o oh” 

“oh yes you are right eiji it is not so bad” lies 

“ash you cant see can you”

“no golzine always does this when we go in public so i dont kill anyone”

“what else did they do to you youre shaking a lot”

“the drug has other side effects”

“do you know them”

“motor function circulation confusion anxiety it just has to wear off on its own”

“do you know how long thats going to take”

“ow ibe that hurt”

_ KEEP HIM SAFE KEEP HIM SAFE _

“im okay ash hes just putting antiseptic on my scratch”

“four hours”

“do you want to sleep until then”

“no” 

“okay well im going to sleep”

“eiji”

“ibe i am going to sleep” lies “the bed is right across the room nothing in the way cant miss it” 

“fine” 

cold cold cold cold bed eiji warm warm warm warm w a r m w a r m w a r m w a r m w a r m s l e e p .

To Ibe, succeeding in this rescue mission is actually the least improbable thing that’s come of this godforsaken trip. And Ibe does have to remind himself that it is a trip. This was supposed to be a trip, for a year at most, to get to know American gang culture. Take some pictures, ask a few questions, and then head back home. Ibe’s got an editor who is going to want a very good article from all of this, and a factual one. Well, he can manage that. They’ve definitely gotten to know American gang culture on a pretty good level. 

That gash Eiji got looks like it’s going to scar– how is Ibe going to explain that to his parents? How is he going to explain the new boyfriend that Eiji has wrapped in his arms and fallen asleep with? How is he going to explain the horrific experiences that sometimes keep Eiji up at night? 

Ash stirs in his sleep, mumbling something. 

Maybe Ibe won’t have to. He’s been thinking for a long time that separating these two would be like trying to separate the sand from the sea, or the tides from the moon, or the stars from the sky. And, as much success as Ash would find in running the New York streets, the boy is still just 17 years old. Maybe he’d agree to go back to Japan with him and Eiji. Ibe knows that if Eiji asked, Ash would do it. But Eiji won’t ask him to do it, he’ll ask him if he wants to do it. And Ash will likely say no. Who knows if Ash even knows how to exist without danger on his heels?

But it’s one in the morning now, and Ibe is as human as anyone else, so he meanders to his own bed and he goes down for the first restful sleep he’s had in months.

With a start, Ash realizes that he did not wake up bolting upright from a horrific nightmare. No, this morning his eyes blinked slowly to consciousness and he breathed a deep breath before moving to rise for the day, only to find warm, warm arms wrapped around him, holding him softly in place. 

It’s a better way to wake up.

Eiji’s breath ruffles his hair in a warm zephyr, and his heartbeat is a steady reminder that he is alive– which Ash only needs when he sees that Eiji has been beat to shit, and the night before comes crashing back down into his head. 

Extricating himself from the warmth of the bed, Ash starts at the hands and works his way up the arms, across the chest, down the legs, pointedly avoiding the face, cataloguing every injury that mars Eiji’s person. There are several. Scraped fingertips, bruised knuckles, burns on the forearms, a bullet graze on the shoulder, a knife slash on one side, road rash on both knees, bruising where there’s nothing else. When Ash finally works up the will to see Eiji’s face, he almost starts to cry. It’s been so long since he’s seen him, and even now Eiji’s expression is darkened by a long cut on the right side of his face, not bleeding anymore but deep enough that it soaked through the gauze Ibe put on it last night. Ash’s head drops to rest on Eiji’s chest. He listens to the heartbeat for a while, trying to keep himself from moving. He’d kill whoever did it in an instant if it helped, but it won’t and he doesn’t know who did it and he doesn’t want to leave Eiji again. He just got him back– or, he supposes, Eiji just got him back.

But Ash can’t sit still, so he grabs the first aid kit off the desk and the hydrogen peroxide and cotton swabs and he goes about trying to fix some part of his mess. Eiji sleeps like a rock, Ash is pretty sure, so he doesn’t think he’ll wake up. He practically bathes Eiji in hydrogen peroxide and antiseptic, and then he replaces the few band-aids Ibe managed to slap on last night– and Ash can now understand, with his sight returned, why Ibe had sounded so distressed. Eiji wakes up as Ash is wrapping his burnt arms with gauze, and he shows it by grabbing Ash’s hand in his and then working his hands up Ash’s arm, and eventually pulling him back down next to him. 

“I still have to do something about the gunshot and knife wounds, and your face. I haven’t even checked your back,” Ash says flatly.

Eiji smiles into Ash’s neck. “They do hurt a lot– but you didn’t put them there.”

“Who did?” and if Ash had asked anyone else, they wouldn’t know better, but Eiji does.

“They’re dead, Ash,” he reassures him. “Or hospitalized.” And Ash doesn’t know what to do with that, so he pushes his fingers through Eiji’s dirty hair, only realizing after a few moments that there’s a small cut hidden in there too. “There were five of them. I shot three, one in the neck, one in the shoulder, one in the chest. The other two, I shot the gas tank of the car they were hiding behind. I didn’t go back to check, but none of them got up and none of them chased us.” It’s such a didactic tone, so matter-of-fact. Ash hates it, he wishes he hadn’t corrupted Eiji like this. Made him a killer. Made him numb. Made Eiji like Ash. 

“Let me fix you,” Ash murmurs, and Eiji releases him and Ash wraps the grazed shoulder and the stabbed side, and neither are very deep. He still can’t look Eiji in the eyes, not with that scar leering from his right cheekbone, angry and red and ragged. Ash hates that he could point to the kind of knife that did that. He inspects Eiji’s back, and finds a bit more road rash, but not as bad as the knees, and he dabs on hydrogen peroxide and antiseptic ointment, but he has to take another break from looking at just how fucked up Eiji’s body has gotten. So much blood and bruising. He hates it so much. 

There’s some butterfly bandages for the deeper cut on Eiji’s face, and both of them try not to wince as Ash puts it on. 

“I feel like a mummy,” Eiji pouts, and it draws a little grin from him, and Ash too, and then there’s a positive feedback loop and little grins turn into normal ones turn into little laughs.

“No,” Ash corrects him, “you’re not a mummy, you’re a person.”

And Eiji blinks, once, twice, a few more times, and he smiles, soft, and says “I am a person, aren’t I?” And for a second Ash loves him so much he’s certain he’ll melt into the bed. 

All of a sudden, Ash is starving. 

For a week, there’s a tv hooked up in the fuckin convenience store, and it’s always on. Sing’s always hated the goddamn news, but this time they’re seeing what kinda news their little excursion made.

For a week they watch, but really the first day they turned it on they already knew they’d won in a very fuckin permanent way when the reporter announced with solemnity befitting her role as a professional that “Philanthropist Dino “Papa” Golzine has been found dead after a party he threw, and investigation of the scene has yielded evidence that may tie him to more crime than just tax fraud.” Sing nearly fuckin cheers. Some of his rats certainly do– some of the rowdier ones. This don’t just mean the rich prick is dead for good, it means that there’s suddenly a lot of territory in New York City up for grabs, and Yut Lung isn’t likely to let the chance slide. Maybe Sing’ll snag a piece. Maybe Ash’ll get some too, when he’s back in the game. 

Sing’s happy as a fuckin clam. But there’s other news too.

On the second day of the week, a Sunday, there’s a new dog park in downtown, and a woman is found dead, and there’s a recall on poultry.

On Monday, the woman’s killer turns himself in– it was her boyfriend and he apparently didn’t mean to– and a church holds a memorial service for a shooting that happened in the middle of the night. 

They finally find all the bodies of the security guards on Tuesday, and the police are looking at how Golzine’s criminal activities could be tied to it. Also, the dog park is no longer for dogs, or people, for whatever fuckin reason. Some intern went missin or somethin.

By Wednesday the police have discovered Golzine’s fuckin massive sex trafficking scheme and they have successfully completed a raid that freed over fifty sex workers, with ninety percent of them being underage. If this poor reporter hadn’t been born and raised in New York, she might not have been able to read that fuckin line off the teleprompter all calm like that. Also, the FDA has announced that poultry is safe again, except not from Bran Hadly Farms, they’re the fuckers who didn’t take care of their shit in the first place and they’re apparently gonna get shut down. 

Thursday is still rolling with the story of the freed sex workers. The same church that held the memorial service for the shooting is helping them get on their feet and find homes. Twenty-two were identified by their families and taken home. Four have been adopted thanks to all the fuckin publicity. Sing tells half his rats, the loud half, to go help at the church and don’t come back without scouting some of those kids. 

By Friday, the reporter says that the remaining fifteen freed sex workers have been put in foster homes, group homes, and orphanages, the dog park is still not safe please stop going there, and four people have been hospitalized because of Bran Hadly’s fuck up. The gang has two new kids with hardened looks in their eyes, and Sing says nice to meet you now bye I gotta go meet some people upstate, and he gets into a car and leaves. He don’t have an address, and he won’t get one until he gets to the cafe just outside the city where he’ll meet Max, and they’ll drive up together. 

Max has never been sure what to make of the beansprout called Sing– and he’s never had time to really think on it or care. But it takes two hours to get to Ash’s childhood home, and he’s trapped in the car with Sing for both of them.

Does give him some time to think on it and care– especially with Golzine dead and Yut Lung making no move in their direction. 

The kid’s too little and too young to be this capable, is what Max decides. He’s barely four years older than Max’s son, and Max’s son occasionally forgets to tie his shoes before school. Max can hardly think of his son running a book fair, much less a section of the most lethal, most technical gang in New York. Too little and too young. Hates how capable he is because he hates that he has to be that way. 

Max figures Ash might’ve had the same look in his eyes at that age, so he does all the things he’d sworn he’d do if he got the chance every time he wakes up in a cold sweat at two am after watching Ash kill his best friend  _ again _ . He ruffs up his hair and laughs when Sing grumbles at him. At the cafe, he lies and tells the waiter it’s the kids birthday, and Sing is absolutely  _ livid _ , but he gets the ice cream, so. In the car, he coaxes him into singing along with something dumb and old, and he rolls the windows down and blares it. The epitome of dumb and reckless and childish and happy. If someone wanted to kill them, it would be the perfect chance, but nobody does. Even if they had, Max does not leave the house without packing heat. Ever. 

By the time they get to the house, and it looks like they’re the first ones there, Sing looks softer. He looks like a middle schooler. He looks like he could be something like four years older than Max’s son. And it’s not permanent, and Max knows it and Sing knows it. You can’t change a life with an afternoon. But there’s a seed in the beansprout and Max does not mind wasting time and money he can’t really afford to spare watering it. Jessica’ll never let him near Michael again, not after he got them kidnapped and used and terrified. Maybe it’s selfish of Max to project his paternity onto Sing. 

But he runs out of time to think about that when another car pulls into the driveway, and Sing’s eyes lose that shine for a moment as he peers out the window, same stance as any soldier on any front line, but it’s just Ibe stepping out of the truck, and he calms right down. 

Eiji and Ash get out after– and between the two of them, they look horrible. Ash looks at least twenty pounds thinner, and he never had ten to lose; Eiji’s been beat to a pulp, and it’s all just starting to heal.

But Ibe dashes inside first, and he tells Sing to give them a minute, so Sing goes outside to greet them, and Ibe takes the moment to say “Max, you have got to help me.”

And, while Max is tempted to say he doesn’t  _ have _ to do shit, Ibe is earnest, so he crosses his arms and asks “With what?”

“Getting Ash to come back to Japan with us.”

“ _ What?” _

“I’ve been thinking a lot over the week, and– just so we’re on the same page, you’ve never seen Ash happier than with Eiji, have you?”

“Not that I know him a lot better than you lot, but, yea.”

“And I’ve known Eiji since I met him as a first-year in high school and I have never seen him happier than with Ash. It would be  _ inhumane _ to separate them.”

Max rolls his eyes. The word probably isn’t quite what Ibe means, but English is a second language to him. “They’re in love, I get it, but why Japan? Why not stay here? Golzine is dead.”

“He is!?” Apparently, no TV at the apartment hideout.

“Apparently he died the night of the party.”

Ibe holds this and rolls it around in his mind for half a second before shaking his head. “Well, nevermind that. Ash will never be free here. He’s too– too–… what’s that English word?”

“Which one?”

Ibe furrows his brow, and Max can practically see the gears grinding. “Feet in the mud?” he tries.

“Stuck?” Max offers.

“Exactly,” Ibe exclaims, latching onto the word, “he’s too  _ stuck  _ here, he’ll never be able to pull himself out because he’s too  _ stuck _ . Japan is a fresh start.”

“I see your point. But what if he doesn’t want to go?”

“That’s why I need your help, he won’t go if we don’t make a convincing case.” And Max knows Ash won’t. Hates that he can’t.

“I’ll talk to him.” 

Then they open the door for the kids– well, they’re kids to Ibe and Max, even if they’re adults everywhere else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry I missed last week, I was outta town. Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!  
> Also, if I started an insta acct for my writing, would anyone care?


	5. It's fine, isn't it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context \/\/\/
> 
> Max: god i miss my fucking son  
> Sing, screeching over him: WHERE is the LAMB SAUCE
> 
> Ash: oh NO people might LIKE ME 
> 
> Family: created  
> Mother: loved  
> Godlike liberties with plot: taken  
> I am forcibly removed from the spoiler-free section of my own fanfiction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, after a certain point in this chapter- it will be very obvious where- this fic's dialogue is meant to be read as Japanese people speaking Japanese. I write in English because I don't have the linguistic capability to write in Japanses without looking like a fool, but the characters are clearly speaking that language.  
> There are exceptions, which will be clear in context, where certain characters will speak in English, which will be **bolded** and usually pointed out in the text as well. This will carry through the rest of the fic. Any specific translation notes will be in the notes sections. I just didn't want anybody confused lmao.  
> As always, enjoy! (esp you, wbss21, your comments always brighten my day so much, even if I don't have the time to respond immediately.)

Max makes fried chicken for dinner, with baked veggies and mac n cheese. Ash says thank god for an American meal for once, and Eiji wonders if his cooking was really that bad, and Ash says he just can’t stand natto. Sing says next time use a different kind of oil, and Ibe wants to know what the big deal is about the oil, and Sing says it has a different taste. Max says he’s  _ so sorry _ about using the wrong oil it’s not like he can just pop back down to the grocery store it’s like half an hour away. It’s a little fun. Ash fusses over Eiji’s battle wounds, Eiji fusses over how much Ash is eating, Sing fusses over the PDA, Ibe fusses about the noise, and Max thinks that this is what a family looks like. Sure, there’s some people not at the table at the moment, but this is what family looks like, and he’s certain that when they leave this house they won’t feel that again, won’t be with each other, for a while. 

After dinner Ash stops everyone from getting up, and his voice cracks when he does it, and everyone laughs a little but they listen. 

“After this, I’m going back to Japan with Eiji and Ibe.”

Ibe is the most surprised, and he drops his hand on the table and says “You are?”

“Did I stutter?” There’s that stubborn look in Ash’s eyes: he won’t budge on this one. And, when Max checks, Eiji’s got the same look. They’ve talked about this.

“You’re not gonna run downtown?” Sing asks, very softly.

“No. I’m not.”

This seems to sting, but then Sing takes in that same look that Max did moments ago and he nods and he’s got that leader in his little beansprout self that bucks up and says “Okay, I’ll be taking it then.”

Ash chuckles, “If Kong and Bones let you.”

“Well,  _ I, _ for one, think that’s a great plan,” Max interjects. He won’t see Ash again. Not for a while at least. But he won’t really need to make sure he’s safe that far away. The dangers are staying home or staying dead. 

Yuki Okumura picks up a ringing phone and, of all people, it’s her stupid older brother. 

_ “Yuki! Is that you?” _ Ew, is he crying? It’s only been, like, nine months. 

“Yeah it’s me– what’d you need?”

_ “I’m, um, I’m coming home Yuki.” _

“Like, right now?”

_ “I’ll be there in two days, and I’m bringing a friend with me.” _

_ “Hi! This is Ash!”  _ He sounds funny. And he’s not great at Japanese.

_ “Ash, let go of the phone! Yuki can I talk to Mom?” _

“Yeah, sure.” 

“Mom! Eiji’s on the phone!”

Immediately there’s footsteps drumming down the stairs, and Yuki has the receiver set down before she even sees her mom’s face. 

“Eiji, how are you, you never call!”

_ “Hi, Momma, I just called to say I’m coming home.” _

“Really? Wasn’t the trip supposed to be a full year?”

_ “Yeah, some things happened. Oh, and I’m bringing a friend with me– say hi Ash.” _

_ “Hi, Mrs. Okumura. Thank you for raising such a responsible boy.” _

Junko Okumura has never had a problem with guests, expected or unexpected– not after how she met her husband– and with how few friends her children have between them (not two to rub together) she’s never gotten much use out of the spare room her husband built into the house. “Oh, he sounds sweet, I’ll have to get the guest room ready.”

_ “Mom,”  _ and Eiji’s crying, and Ash is on the other end asking if he should take the phone,  _ “Mom, I can’t wait to see you.” _

“Neither can I, Ei-chan. What’s got you all worked up? Why’re you crying?”

_ “Eiji’s been through a lot– I’m sorry, it might be my fault.”  _ That’s Ash– or, at least, it is for a second before Eiji steals the phone back– and he’s still crying.

_“It is_ not _Mom, don’t listen to him. The only part that was his fault was that time when he said he hated natto. It’s a_ staple food, _Mom.”_

“Ei-chan, I love you but you are not making any sense.”

Yuki, despite her aloof attitude, is still sitting on the stairs within earshot and she laughs and mutters “when  _ does _ he make sense?” Junko rolls her eyes fondly; Yuki cares, even if it’s in her own way.

_ “Eiji, can I say goodbye or are you still talking?” _

_ “I’ll say it, I’ll say it. Mom, you still there?” _

“Always.”

_ “I’ll see you in two days. I love you.” _

“Love you too, Eiji. I’ll get the guest room ready.”

_ “Thanks, Mom!” _ That was Ash, joking and loud and, now that Junko thinks about it, probably just what her shy little boy needs. 

Ash’s never been able to sleep on any kind of transportation, and Eiji usually gets motion sick just enough to keep him awake, but with the news of Golzine’s death still ringing in their ears and Ibe muttering about the in-flight movie the row in front of them and still feeling the goodbye hug from Max and the awkward fist bump from Sing and the overbearing teary-eyed hugs from every member of Ash’s gang still warm in their nerves and with the both of them right next to each other, hands all tangled, they both fall asleep. 

They don’t know it’s a dream, which is part of the terror pooling in their stomachs; but the bigger part is that they’re in that basement, with Shorter’s corpse shot once in the back; they’re in that mansion, in a sea of corpses riddled with bullets; they’re in that warehouse, with Ash’s corpse shot once in the side of the head; they’re in that room, with Eiji’s corpse bleeding from slit wrists; they’re in that storeroom, with Skip’s corpse shot three times in the chest; they’re in that subway station, and another sea of swiss-cheese corpses. They are everywhere that they have lost something, and they are too far apart, and they are disintegrating in front of each other. 

Ash burns up like fire under kerosene from his head, from his chest, from his hands, and the holes burn wider and wider and wider, cinder dust sifting to the ground at his feet.

Eiji blows apart like leaves in wind from his heart, from his throat, from his feet, and the leaves float away and away and away, rotting decay falling to the ground below him.

Neither knows who started to move first, but with sudden ferocity born of the first efficacious movements in what seems a lifetime, they rush at each other and find that leaves make for wonderful tinder, and they burn up and blow apart until they are nothing more than rotting cinders falling to the ground, and they are content because their last moments were with each other, inextricable.

But the dream isn’t over, because they find they are still there, themselves, within the rotting decay and the cinder dust, and, though tiny and new, they can crawl their way out from this mess of themselves. 

And that is when they wake up.

Eiji didn’t expect Ash to be so nervous about meeting his family— he had been cavalier enough on the phone. 

“That was a front, Eiji, you were crying and I couldn’t be nervous while you’re already crying.”

Ibe has already left them after an angry phone call from his wife. The man waiting for his luggage two feet to their left shifts uncomfortably away, sensing a conversation he doesn’t want to be a part of. Better than a rat listening in, Eiji supposes. 

“It’s fine— my mom will be so ecstatic that I have a friend that she won’t care that you’re blonde,” he teases. 

“They don’t like blondes?!” Ash screeches, tearing at his hair. “Eiji there is so much more about me to hate than hair color— I’m doomed. I killed 43 people in an afternoon. They’ll kick me out in two days, a week tops.”

“My mom would not kick you out unless it’s with money to buy groceries and come back.” His mother has done that, several times, all in hopes that he would interact with some human being while he was out, all failed attempts. 

But Ash isn’t done panicking yet. “Eiji I’m an ex-sex-worker who ran a gang and worked for the mob!”

“None of that was your choice.”

“I traded information on a volatile drug  _ to  _ the mob and planned government missions that could have led to the death of thousands of civilians!”

“You did that for my sake– she’ll love you!”

“You are way too optimistic,” Ash mutters derisively, but he spots and grabs their luggage. Both of the two suitcases are Eiji’s, with everything of Ash’s fitting in a carry-on backpack. 

“Someone has to talk you out of your nihilism,” Eiji replies with a grin, and they begin to trek through the airport. Ash’s eyes get caught on the scar that’s forming out of the scab on Eiji’s cheekbone, and he just can’t bring himself to think that Mrs. Okumura will be able to tolerate the boy who is the reason for her son’s scars. 

But there she is now, waving her arms emphatically and calling after Eiji, who drops the luggage to run up to her and spin her around. She seems surprised that he can. Ash hadn’t noticed it, but it certainly wouldn’t be strange if Eiji had gained some muscle, given the sorts of activities he’d been involved in, and he had been a pole vaulter so it isn’t like he’d started with nothing either. Ash wonders, briefly, if Eiji could pick him up, and then remembers he’s at least ten pounds underweight and comes to the conclusion that the answer is probably yes. It’s an exciting answer.

“Is this Ash? He’s skin and bones! Eiji you need to take better care of your friends!”

“Oh, no, ma’am–” Ash starts, trying on his most polite Japanese.

But Junko Okumura cuts him off with a wave of her very expressive hands, “Oh, no, don’t call me that, it’s far too distant. Call me ‘Mom!’”

Ash hasn’t called anyone ‘Mom,’ in any language, in years. Eiji watches Ash carefully construct his next words like he’s walking on very thin wires over a hundred-foot drop. “Okay, um,  _ Mom _ , I was just saying Eiji’s saved my life at least six times by now. And he’s a great cook. He takes real good care of me.” There’s a lump settled in Ash’s throat, and he can’t move it– and he can’t figure out which Okumura to place the blame on. 

Junko looks like she might cry, because she’s a very empathetic person and it looks like Ash might cry, but Eiji has to say his piece before everyone forgets. “Mom, don’t let him fool you, Ash has literally nearly died for me, like four times before. And he’s very capable on his own for everything except waking up in the morning.”

Now Junko is crying, and she pulls both of them in for a tight hug– and it’s as close to anything maternal as Ash has ever had. It shatters walls and it builds strength and it makes you feel incredibly small in the best of ways. 

“Yuki isn’t here?” Eiji wonders, peering over his mother’s head.

Junko sighs, her chin resting on Ash’s shoulder. “You know what it’s like trying to get that girl out of her room.”

The Okumura home is two stories situated on a quiet residential street, large enough for Ash to gather that they have some money, snug enough to infer that they haven’t always had it.

“Did Eiji tell you, Ash?” Junko says excitedly, “my husband built this house when I was pregnant with Eiji.” She smiles fondly. “Started it the day I found out I was pregnant and finished it three days before he was born. Of course, it was smaller then. He’s added Yuki’s room and the guest room and the back sunroom since then.” 

“Does he work in construction then?” Ash asks.

Junko’s hands reposition themselves in the way they do when she’s proud of something, “Well, he runs the company now.” She laughs when Ash gawks, he hadn’t expected that. “They have him flying all over to review projects and check the status of them and things like that, but he always finds time in between to come home.”

Inside she shows Ash the guest room, but says that she shouldn’t be calling it that if Ash is going to stay there, and she leaves him to get settled while she gets something ready for dinner.

“It’ll have to have a lot of calories,” she mutters to herself on the way out the bedroom door, “boy’s just skin and bones.”

“Sorry,” Eiji says uncertainly– Ash looks overloaded, wide-eyed and gawking– “My mom can be a bit much.”

Shaking his head almost violently, Ash replies too quietly with “No, no, it’s… great.”

“She’s just excited– I’ve never had a lot of close friends, and neither has Yuki, and she’s always been a little worried about us not adjusting well.”

“What? I always assumed you were really popular.”

“Well, it’s not like anyone treated me coldly in school, but we never got very close either.”

Ash’s cold green eyes narrow, thinking. “Isn’t Yuki still in school?”

“Yeah, it’s her last year of middle school,” Eiji shrugs, trying to shrug off whatever Ash is trying to insinuate, “she skips most of the time though. Says it all moves too slow.”

“But she doesn’t have a lot of friends either?”

“She prefers 2-D people. Says the 3-D ones are disappointing.”

And Ash shrugs, and let’s Eiji show him the rest of the house, and then they go eat dinner. Junko has made hamburger steaks. 

It’s after about a week of Ash staying in the Okumura household that he gets sick. And only Mommy Junko knows why.

“But, Mom,” Eiji insists, trying to convince her that something more nefarious is afoot, “he’s never gotten sick  _ once _ , in the whole time I’ve known him. Not  _ once _ .”

“Exactly,” she replies, checking on the rice porridge she’s making, “he probably hasn’t gotten sick for years.” To Eiji, this makes no sense, but Junko is convinced and calm where her son has somehow learned to be skeptical and panicked. “What he needs now is to be doted on– and what do you know the rice porridge is ready. I’ll take him this, you go get a cool cloth.”

Frowning and obeying, Eiji wanders to the laundry room for a cloth while Junko hikes the stairs with a bowl and spoon. 

“Ash,” she murmurs, trying to open the door quietly, “I’ve got some food, if you can eat it.”

The boy is wobbling just sitting up, and his eyes are dazed and confused, cheeks and forehead both bright red. “Eiji?” he asks.

“He’s getting you something for that fever,” Junko assures him, “he’ll be up in a minute.” To her, it’s incredibly endearing that Ash relaxes with just that, leaning against the wall that the bed is pushed up against. She sets the bowl in his hands when he doesn’t protest, and the spoon in the bowl. “Sorry, I haven’t gotten you your own bowl yet, you’ll have to use a guest one. I’ll have to run to the store soon, I suppose.” Ash has no idea what she means, and he’s too tired from the fever to try and decipher it, so he just frowns and takes a bite of porridge. “You’ll have to let me know if you want seconds,” Junko tells him sternly, “you couldn’t hold paper in a breeze.”

“Why are you like this?” Ash wonders aloud, Japanese broken and stilted in his delirium. His shoulders hike up and into themselves, and his fingers clench white around the bowl, and he cries. 

As if he has sensed the distress, Eiji opens the door and, internally, immediately panics. Externally, he crosses the room with the intention of wrapping Ash in a hug, but his mother has beaten him to the punch. 

“ **It’s okay, Ash,”** Junko murmurs in hesitant English. They’re the only words she really remembers from high school English classes that can really be comforting– the others are all curse words and double entendres. Ash cries, quiet like a ghost, with Junko wrapping him in a maternal embrace and Eiji hovering worriedly nearby, until he passes out. 

“Eiji,” Junko whispers once she’s sure Ash is asleep, “mind going to the store for me? We need to get Ash his own cup and bowl, and some medicine, and also I might have you grab some groceries– not too much, just a few basic things.”

Yuki doesn’t get why  _ she _ has to check on Ash. It’s a cold, not the plague. She’s sure he can survive on his own the whole hour that her brother is at the supermarket– and she knows the moment Eiji gets back he won’t leave Ash alone another minute. It’s been like that for the past week anyway. They stick together like glue and they both flinch when she slams the door to the bathroom in the middle of the night. 

Still, arguing with her mother has never been a fun pastime, so Yuki trudges down the hall to the guest room–  _ Ash’s room _ , she can almost hear her mother correct her– and peels open the door as quietly as possible so as to avoid interacting, if she can. 

But she can’t, because Ash is out of bed, putting on socks and a jacket like he’s going somewhere, and almost falling over for it. 

“Why are you like this?” she mutters– to Ash or to herself, she’s not sure yet– but she goes in and confronts him “Where do you think you’re–”

“Eiji–” Ash coughs, and he looks terrified, “where’s–… where’s Eiji?”

Yuki stops. Frowns. She’s never seen a person with that expression before– 2D or otherwise. “Why do you ask?” The question is an experiment. She wants to see how he’ll react. She’s never seen a person with that expression before.

Ash trips on his own pant-leg and falls to a sit. His voice is absolutely desperate. His head goes to his hands, and he’s trying to cough out words, but between the fever and the fear he can’t get them past his throat. Yuki flinches too, this time. 

“He’s at the store,” but this does nothing to stop the panic in Ash’s breathing. “I’ll take you to see him– he’ll probably be glad for the help. Mom has probably texted him with a whole list of things she needs by now.”

This has snapped Ash to attention. Yuki is glad it was that easy. She’s never seen a person with that expression before, and she doesn’t want to again. Sure, she’s got a record of three weeks without leaving the house going, and it’s her second longest streak yet, but she’ll break it if it means Ash stops looking like the world collapsed while he was in bed. 

“Let me grab a jacket,” Yuki says, and before she leaves the room. She looks Ash up and down and adds “don’t leave without me.”

In five minutes, Yuki’s leading Ash down the residential streets toward the closest supermarket– the one Mom said she sent Eiji to. It’s a ten minute walk, and Yuki isn’t honestly sure if Ash will make it that far. She regrets bringing him instead of, I don’t know, just calling Eiji on his goddamn cell phone? Still, Ash doesn’t look like he’ll collapse that easy: his head is on a swivel, and his eyes are barbed wire, and his steps might waver but they don’t stop. 

“Hey, Ash.”

“Hm?” It’s probably the illness, but his voice has a mean edge to it. With her brother it’s only ever playful or calm, but here it is bared with fangs and Yuki has never curbed her curiosity before.

“What’s the worst thing my brother did in America?”

“He made me eat natto.”

Yuki has to agree, the stuff is nasty, and she’s got no idea why her brother likes it so much. Still, she knows Ash is dodging the question because he doesn’t look at her when he says it. “What’s the worst thing you did in America?” she pushes.

Ash squints, thinking hard about this one, and says “I killed my best friend.”

Yuki laughs, because she knows he’s kidding, and says “okay.”

They keep walking. They don’t talk anymore because Ash hardly has the brainpower to put one foot in front of the other, and because Yuki doesn’t think Ash will answer any of her questions honestly in his current condition. 

It’s another four minutes to the supermarket and, once again, Yuki thinks Ash might not survive the trip, because he’s breathing like a racehorse after the race. And she doesn’t really like people, but she’s certain her brother wouldn’t let her hear the end of it if she walked his only friend to death.

However, she is spared such blame when they reach the supermarket, all alive, and Ash takes one look at the crowd and says “I’ll wait here,” and sits on a bench a comfortable distance away.

“Thank the gods,” Yuki mutters, and takes a seat next to him. The last thing she needs is a big crowd of people on her first day outside in three weeks. Ash has the same expression too. 

“Mom said you guys killed people in America,” Yuki tells Ash, “would you kill me?” It’s another experiment of a question. She’s testing Ash’s waters. She really doubts someone younger than her fool of a brother has killed anyone, and she doubts that Ash is going to tell her the truth, but she wants to know how he’s going to respond.

“Eiji never killed anyone,” Ash says– but then he stops, his shoulders go rigid, and then he puts his head in his hands. “Well, only out of self-defense.” His eyes look hollow when Yuki glances at them– such bright, green eyes. Greener than eyes she’s ever seen on the screens. It feels cold, and too thin a line for anything but honesty. Yuki shivers in the chill.

“Would you kill me?”

“No.”

“Yuki!” It’s Eiji, with four more bags than he should be able to manage, and he looks peeved, “why did you bring Ash out in this weather? It looks like it might rain!” Then he whirls on Ash, “And  _ you _ should know better.” He puts a hand on Ash’s forehead, and Ash practically falls into the touch, leaving him to waver precariously when Eiji recoils his hand with a “you’re burning up!” 

Yuki is rewarded for her actions with a hard glare, and it makes that new scar on Eiji’s cheek stand out, and she shrugs. “He was going– and whether that was with me babysitting and showing him the way or by himself wandering the streets did not seem to matter.”

“She’s right,” Ash corroborates, and Yuki isn’t sure why. It had technically been her idea to meet up with Eiji, even if Ash had been more than willing to go. What does Ash gain from backing her up?

But Eiji has no reason to read so far into it, so he just sighs heavily and hands Yuki half of the groceries. “Can you walk on your own?” he asks Ash, who shrugs and leans into Eiji’s shoulder. 

All the cavalier calm Ash had when he walked with Yuki seems to have been replaced with honest exhaustion. Where his footprints had been steady, even when stumbling when she walked next to him, with Eiji they fall slow and wobbling, heavier on the side where he leans against Eiji to walk. For her brother’s part, he doesn’t seem to mind, just tells Ash a million times over that he needs to take better care of himself. 

For some reason, Yuki remembers that expression that she wishes she couldn’t, and it convinces her, just a little bit, that maybe Ash wasn’t quite kidding. 

Ash stays in bed another two days before the medicine does much, and in that time Junko fawns over him enough to make up for years of missing mothers. Ash stops crying about it after the second day. Yuki has migrated to play on a handheld console in Ash’s room– she sits in the opposite corner and doesn’t speak to him often, even when he’s conscious, but Junko is secretly overjoyed that Yuki is showing interest in any real-life person. Eiji worries and worries and hardly leaves Ash alone, as usual.

Somewhere in the pit of his stomach, Eiji’s waiting for a bullet to snap through the window and rattle something a bit more important than his arm. Both boys still flinch a little at loud noises, and Yuki thinks it’s funny to scare the living shit out of her brother by popping up behind him and yelling in his ear– Junko has told her several times to stop, and Ash gives her a withering glare, if he’s awake to catch her, that is a little more convincing.

When Ash is finally ready to come downstairs, he’s still pale and sweaty and thin as a rail, and Yuki is wandering after him without looking up from her game. 

“This is fine, isn’t it, Ei-chan?” Junko is saying, stirring something in a pot.

Eiji nods, “Ash has low blood-sugar, just like Yuki. They both need foods that–”

“Hey!” Yuki hisses. She hates it when they talk about that. It’s not like she can help it, and it’s embarrassing. 

Still stirring, Junko murmurs, “It’s fine, isn’t it, Yuki?”

Yuki frowns, flops into a chair at the kitchen table and grumpily mashes some more buttons. 

Leaning against a counter and trying to smile less nervously, Ash says “Thanks for taking such good care of me, Ma.” That’s what Ash calls her, and Junko loves having a third child, even if she hasn’t known him long yet. 

“It’s fine, isn’t it, Ash?” she tells him, and keeps stirring. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry I'm almost late again on this one. I promise I'm trying my best. We're gonna get there.  
> Translation notes:  
> -We are assuming for convenience sake that Ash learned at least basic Japanese spoken language in that week in the disused apartment with Eiji, because realistically it would have been very difficult to make the jump to Japan otherwise. Bear with me on that.  
> -When Ash calls Junko "Ma," I think it's important for your feelies to know that he is saying "Okaa," without honorifics or anything, while Eiji and Yuki call her "Okaa-san."


	6. Relapse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context:  
> Ash: ma we got fukin attacked  
> Eiji: but he DIDN'T kill ANYONE this time  
> Junko: awww baby i'm so proud of u  
> Yuki: ఠ_ఠ
> 
> Author: *sees original show*  
> Author: *wants her bois to be happy*  
> Author:  
> Author:  
> Author: yo watup my name's [REDACTED] i'm 19 an i never fukin lernd how 2 read
> 
> Ash: how many times I gotta say i'm not worthy of love before u believe me????  
> Eiji, with heart eyes, absolutely going stupid: uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.... burger? (wut was the question again?)
> 
> Look out for a gay joke! (the kind we like, ofc)

When Ash has been better for two weeks, and been staying with the Okumuras for about a month that he has the first of a few incidents that Junko calls “relapses.” 

At this point, Eiji has begun attending cram courses to study for college entrance exams. He’ll be a year or so older than his classmates, but he wants the education. Ash has been looking for a job that will hire someone with such a strange skillset, but without a lot of luck thus far. In the evenings, he walks to the building where Eiji takes his courses and picks him up, and they walk home together. Usually, the walk is uneventful, boring even, as they tell each other about that weird chemistry thing or that even weirder thing Yuki does for luck before a boss fight. 

However, nowhere is entirely mundane forever, and there comes an evening where some hoodlums think a couple of twinks look like an easy robbery. Ash hasn’t had his guard up in a while, but it slips up like water across sand when he sees three of them step in front of his and Eiji’s path, with two more stepping in behind them. 

“Give us your money,” one demands, “any valuables you’ve got.”

Ash tries diplomacy, “We don’t have anything on us.”

Eiji tries diplomacy, “You don’t want to do this.”

“That a fuckin’ threat?” snaps one of them from behind. Both Eiji and Ash are familiar with the sound of a switchblade locking into place. 

“Ash,” Eiji is trying to placate him, because he knows Ash and he knows the way his shoulders hike up and his fingers curl to fists when he’s about to go. “Ash, it’s fine.”

Ash doesn’t hear Eiji though, just hears a switchblade and remembers how it feels when one plunges into your shoulder, and he’s spun around and knocked that guy to the ground and taken his switchblade before any of the others can cough. The next two rush him, and Ash has them gasping for air after a boot to the solar plexus and a punch to the throat, respectively. Eiji has wrestled another knife away from another hoodlum and he shouts to get everyone’s attention. He’s got the blade held against the man’s throat with a trembling hand. 

His voice is steady, however, when he warns them, “Get out of here while you’re alive.” 

A threat did not work when the hoodlums were convinced they were dealing with two twinks. A threat most certainly does work when they have had the shit beat out of them and one twink has a threat on their lives. The five of them help each other up and scramble down as many alleyways as they can until they feel like they’re safely far away. 

Just like how he can still hear the switchblade’s click, Ash can still see Eiji’s shaking hands wrapped around the knife. He sinks to his knees and starts to cry. 

Eiji is breathing hard from adrenaline, but he lifts Ash to his feet and murmurs to him, “Let’s go home, Ash.” Ash nods, but he just holds onto Eiji for several minutes before moving again.

“I’m sorry, Eiji.”

“What for?”

“Look what I did to you.” Ash’s thumb smooths over the rough contour of the scar on Eiji’s cheek. 

With a frown, Eiji tells Ash, “You didn’t do this. These are my scars, and I won’t let you take responsibility for them.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Eiji smiles, and it almost turns into a laugh, “I’d rather be covered in scars than never know you.” Ash’s tears start up again, and then the smile really does turn into a laugh, “Ash, I never knew you were such a crybaby.”

“Shut up, stupid.”

They meander home, and Junko says absolutely nothing of the bruising or scrapes, just gets out the first aid kit while Yuki sits on the stairs, videogames forgotten in her hand, and thinks about how stupid her questions must have sounded to a man who really has killed his best friend.

When there is something to celebrate in the Okumura household, they go down the street to a small, family-run restaurant for dinner. The family has, at this point, dwindled to one man and his wife, and business is usually slow enough for him to be almost enough to do everything, while she handles bookkeeping and other upkeep tasks that suit her interests better. When Yuki decides on a high school, dinner at Touya’s. When Eiji does well on a test, dinner at Touya’s. When Ash has been staying with them a whole month, dinner at Touya’s. When they get news that Dad will be coming home in a week, dinner at Touya’s. Eventually, the man came to know all of them as well as they knew each other. 

Touya Touma is a heavy-set man with enough stubble to remind Ash and Eiji of Max Lobo, and a smile to match. He knows everyone’s birthday except Ash’s– and, to be fair, even Eiji hasn’t figured that one out yet– he knows their favorite foods, and he can tell when it’s been a bad day the moment someone opens the door, so when Ash wanders in with glazed-looking eyes the day after the family dinner where Junko Okumura had announced that Tomoya Okumura was coming home next Wednesday to stay until his next trip, Touya knows what’s up. 

“I’ll get some tempura going,” he mutters, just loud enough to be heard from the doorway, before disappearing into the kitchen for a few minutes. Ash settles himself into a chair and studies the grain of the aged wood on the countertop. 

It’s six and a half minutes later when Touya comes back out, serves out a plate, and pretends to be unsurprised when Ash’s head snaps up like he just realized where he was. It’s a host’s specialty to never be surprised, puts people at ease, his mother always said. 

“What’s eatin’ you, kiddo?” Touya starts. Ash shakes his head, but doesn’t otherwise respond. After a comfortable silence in which Touya ensures Ash really doesn’t want to talk about it, he explains “Well, I’ll be in the kitchen,” and wanders off behind the curtain partition to shoot a text to Junko telling her where her boy went– and Ash is her boy, blonde hair and all. 

A small family walks in, not one of Touya’s regulars, but a nice little family consisting of a dad and two elementary-aged kids. They sit in the corner table and order two beef katsudon bowls and some fried rice. On his way back to the kitchen, Touya pauses by Ash, asking “Hey, think you could give me a hand in the kitchen?” Touya does not need a hand, but he thinks Ash would benefit from getting out of his head, and there just isn’t a way to mess up fried rice, no matter how out of it anybody is. 

At first, Touya is showing him– here’s the rice, and the eggs and the chicken, some of these, a pinch of this– and then Ash is nudging him out of the way and mixing everything together on his own and telling Touya to get out of his face, he knows how to cook, and Touya leaves him be, glancing over occasionally to check on Ash’s progress, as he works on the katsudon. The rice ends up just fine, but Touya has “accidentally” portioned ingredients wrong, and Ash ends up making a double batch. By the time the family has just paid their bill, Eiji comes in with his face soft and shoulders slumped from cram classes. 

“Mom told me Ash was here?” Eiji purses his lips and seems uncertain, glancing around the empty dining area. 

“Eiji’s here,” Touya calls out to the curtain, and Ash moves much faster than Touya expected– fast enough that Ash decides it’s easier to vault over the counter than maneuver around him. 

Ash’s eyes are glowing and he’s got some color back in his face.  _ “ _ **Eiji, I made fried rice** _ – _ ” he’s so excited that he’s talking in English. It’s the first English that Touya has ever heard from them, and the conversation spirals upwards and out of Touya’s depth, given that his English is comprised solely of the occasional foreign customer that wanders in off the street during the summer and desperately attempts to order by pointing at pictures on the menu. Eiji, who had looked exhausted when he first walked in, gets caught up in it and is soon grinning the way he’d grinned when he was fourteen and tested into the high school he wanted. It’s clear that Ash hasn’t been this energetic in a while, and between that and the promise he’d shown helping out earlier and the poignant reminder of Touya’s limited English combined with the oncoming tourist season–…Touya is packing up the fried rice in a to-go box and texting Junko again. He gets a barely-comprehensible string of emojis in reply, and so he shrugs and turns to Ash and says “Hey, kiddo, how old are you anyway?”

Instantly, instinctively, Ash tenses. He seems very on-guard when he turns back to Touya and mutters “Why?” If Touya didn’t know better, he’d say Ash looked a little betrayed. 

But Touya does know better, or at least he knows enough, because he shrugs and casts his eyes about the restaurant and tells the boys, “I sure could use some help around here.” Both of them look floored. To be fair, it was kind of a sudden request. He’ll have to talk it over with the missus too, but she’s never really minded what he does as long as they get to have their breakfast and dinner together, and as long as he does the laundry. “I can’t promise great pay,” he admits, “but it’ll give you something to fill the day, and you can get some savings going– whatever you feel like, I suppose.”

Something about this must hit home, because for a second it looks as though he’s made Ash cry, but a laugh it what comes out of his mouth and he laughs until everyone else is laughing with him. Riya actually comes down from upstairs to see what’s so funny, puts her hands on her hips and demands to hear the joke because she feels left out. 

“Oh, I just told Ash he could have a job here.”

“Well that’s not funny, that’s just practical. You know you’ll need the help for tourist season, dear,” and Riya heads back upstairs to finish her podcast. 

Touya pointedly does not discuss the fact that he has no children, and that he was an only child and Riya’s siblings all have their own businesses to run– that they are the last two left for this shop. That’s too much too soon. He does think about it though. 

Thinks about how cooking for half an hour gave Ash the energy to pitch himself over the tall counter and laugh and speak in English. 

When he tells Riya, she smiles and tells him she doesn’t understand how it works, like a lot of those emotional things that Touya is so good with, but that she is happy that they’re both having fun. 

“Eiji,” Ash is saying, his hands held out in front of him, gesturing to something that isn’t there, “you’re dad is going to hate me. I have to hide in the closet or something.” They're on their way home from Touya's 'extra' fried rice in a bagged to-go container hanging off of Ash's arm.

“ **No closets!”** Eiji cries, in English, “ **Not in this household!** ” His arms form an “x,” and he waits for them both to be laughing again before he says “My dad will love you! He works with foreigners a lot, so he won’t mind the blonde hair as much as my mom–”

“Ma doesn’t like my hair!?”

“She says it’s fine because it’s you, but anyway don’t try to get out of this.” He stops between two buildings, reaching out and holding Ash’s hands in his own, physically tethering him to safety, and to the conversation. Whatever Touya had done, it had lit Ash up in a way Eiji hadn’t seen in months, maybe ever, and Eiji would rather slit his wrists that crack that fragile foundation of peace. “Ash, look at me– no,” and Eiji repositions his hands to squish Ash’s cheeks and force him to look at Eiji’s face, “in the eyes– Ash, my dad is going to love you because you are a great person and you took such good care of me for, like, nine months while running from an organized crime syndicate and trying to unravel a government conspiracy about testing drugs on active-duty military personnel and convicts.”

Ash’s voice is hard to take serious, with his cheeks all squished, but he’s absolutely deadpan when he says “We’re skipping a lot of what happened, but–”

“Like what?” Eiji demands.

“Like the part where I killed 43 people in two hours, shot my best friend in the back, prostituted myself to a leading member of the US Congress– among other people– traded government secrets about said drug experiments to the organized crime syndicate, burned down a bunch of buildings, didn’t eat for a month while living with the organized crime syndicate’s head and my former pimp while he used me to develop military plans that would kill hundreds of civilians– Eiji, I could go on for hours.” He’s listing these things so nonchalantly, with his face still squished between Eiji’s hands, only Eiji (and, maybe, Mama Junko) could see how he’s collapsing in on himself as he does.

So Eiji cuts his thoughts from him, “What you  _ mean _ to say, I believe,” he corrects with an air of indisputable confidence, “is that you defended yourself against 43 people all trying earnestly to kill  _ you _ , helped your friend pass on when his only options were death or indeterminate pain, sacrificed your sense of safety in your own body to gain access to information for a cause you believed in, then traded that information for the safety of a friend, then destroyed that information so it couldn’t be used by unjust powers, and protested in the only way you could when held against your will.” Eiji’s practiced this, this twisting of Ash’s downward spiral into an upward one. Like taking a photo, if you’re capturing the light on a sleeping cat, it’s a lovely work of art; if you’re focusing on the shadow, it usually looks like shit. “Besides,” he adds, and he knows he’s said this before, “you did most of that stuff for my sake– he’ll love you!”

Ash doesn’t move, but Eiji smiles at the way his frown deepens between his fingertips. “But, that scar…”

“Is  _ mine _ , I believe I’ve said a thousand times.” 

Ash doesn’t seem to quite believe Eiji, but he sighs and says “Alright, let’s get home before this rice gets cold.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, more notes!   
> Not much as far as notes go on this chapter. Unless you care that, in this fic's canon, Ash called Eiji "idiot"/"baka" because he couldn't remember a better Japanese insult off the top of his head.   
> Any questions? hahahaha u kno wut it do babeyyyy  
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!


	7. Appropriate Greetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context \/\/\/
> 
> Mama Junko: I've got to show him how much i missed him. u know what that means? self care babieee
> 
> [REDACTED]: life is GOOD nothing could EVER go wrong i LOVE my FAMILY :DDDDDDDD
> 
> Ash: everyone will hate me. everyone already hates me. i should just move out. that way i'm not a burden.  
> Eiji, immediately: *blasts the "cooking by the book ft lil jon" remix*
> 
> This might be a spoiler, but i'm not sure if I legally was allowed to be this soft? who let me do that???? ffs I reread this (cause it's one of the chapters I wrote a while ago) and legit went "awwwww uwu" like?? ma'am, u wrote this??? anyway, y'all get another new character (let me know when you want me to stop making those hehehe (´∀｀•)) and he is a BABIE

While Junko Okumura was in an absolute tizzy the night before her husband's return– making a cake and cleaning up a few things around the house– the day of, she is absolutely as calm and collected as ever, taking a bath and washing her hair and dressing in a t-shirt and jeans that Ash, Yuki, and Eiji all reassure her ten times each looks amazing. She even puts on a little makeup, which she only does so that, as she puts it, “my eyes really pop, so he can see how much I missed him.” She’s, in a word, ecstatic. Her husband is coming home! Her boy(s) are home! The family will be together for the first time in almost a year, and now they have a new member to celebrate! Even Yuki has put down her games for a day, partially. 

“Yuki, are you coming?” Junko calls up the stairs. Yuki had  _ wanted _ to go to the airport to pick up her dad with Junko– and Junko specifically does not talk about how happy it makes her for Yuki to be leaving the house more often now, and of her own will too!

Yuki’s footsteps are not immediately forthcoming. “Hang on, Mom!” she replies, “I’ve gotta beat this boss!” 

More quietly, she hears, “Look, Ash, his health is half gone,” and “Perfect, just hit him with the combo with the– yeah, that one,” and “one more, one more, come on Yuki” and “Sh, nii-chan, I got it,” and “ **Oh, careful!** ” in English and “He’s dead! He’s dead!” followed by enough whole-hearted cheering to make Junko forget to be impatient to get to the airport. 

When everyone has apparently high-fived and given the moment it’s due excitement, Yuki bounds down the stairs and drags Junko out the front door, crying “Bye Nii-chan! Bye Ash-nii! I’ll be back!” 

Junko hears replies of “Bye Yuki, bye Ma!” and “Come back soon!”

The drive to the airport is somewhat quiet. They both sing along to the radio without really listening to the words.

Tomoya Okumura is striding confidently towards them before they even see him, which Junko tells him is very unfair of him, and he kisses her and says “I missed you too,” and then “You still look like my queen of the moon.” 

“Ew, gross, I get enough of this with Nii-chan and Ash-nii at home.”

Tomoya diverts his attention to sweep Yuki in a circle until she’s screaming laughing– because, at something like 14 years old she was  _ not _ expecting to be hefted up and swung in a circle like a kid– and says “And here is our wonderful knight,” the endearment Yuki has always preferred over princess (mostly because of the nature of most of her video games), “how fares the kingdom?”

“Let’s talk and walk, hm?” Junko suggests, and they do. Yuki tells her dad all about how Eiji is home now, and he’s kinda cooler than before because now he has a cool scar on his cheek, and his friend Ash, who is living with them, is also okay and he’s really good at the Star Burst: Heroes and Villains saga, and Ash also has low blood sugar and blonde hair and he’s got a job at Touya’s now and Eiji goes to prep classes during the day now so the house is pretty quiet, and don’t close the bathroom door too loud if you have to pee in the middle of the night because that freaks them out, or something, and she’s going to high school when classes start up again, she tested into a scholarship at a pretty good one, and Mom what are we having for dinner tonight?

Back at the house, Ash has taken to spilling his anxiety out of his pores. Everyone is getting back in an hour, and then he’ll really be in for it. He’s gotta be. Already, he’s prepared a “thanks, see ya” speech for when he is inevitably kicked out of the house by Tomoya Okumura. He’s wondering how much of his stuff to take with him when he leaves, and where he’ll go– where he’ll have to go. He’s defensive. With the notable outliers of Max and Touya, Ash has never had an older man look at him and come to an approving conclusion, unless that conclusion was also sexual. To older men, as with to essentially everyone else, Ash is a sex object or something worse. He’s not worth looking at. He’s disgusting. He’s a killer. He’s girly. He’s a prostitute. He’s brought it all upon himself, and that must mean he wants it because he’s a goddamned faggot who only solves his problem with his penis or with a bullet between someone’s eyes and these older men can see that and the respectable ones like Tomoya Okumura turn their heads and tell him to leave his son alone and get out of his house.

“Ash?” He’d been bouncing his knee, spinning a pencil on his finger even though he wasn’t in the middle of writing anything, and chewing the inside of his lip, but it all cuts out abruptly to look at Eiji, who he knows will squish his face between his hands to get him to stop and listen if he won’t do it himself (and who might squish his face between his hands anyway, because Eiji thinks it’s cute). Ash expects him guessing exactly what’s on his mind, expects him reversing his thoughts and putting a positive spin on it all. But Eiji just says,  **“We should make some dinner, huh? Everyone’ll be hungry when they get home.** ” He says it in English, and Ash smiles thinly, hopefully, reassuringly, and nods. Getting up on shaky feet, he makes his way into the kitchen and Eiji suggests “how about some fish? Dad loves mackerel, and we’ve got some we can cook up.”

Ash remembers a recipe Touya taught him last week. Touya had used tuna, but the idea was the same, and Ash can make some adjustments with the spices the Okumuras had on-hand. Making something has got to be better than fretting. More useful. He’s got to make himself useful, it’s his only shot. He could offer to pay bills– Ma had told him that the house had been paid off for years, but surely water and electric bills could be helped with? What is he thinking: with him gone, they’ll already be less expensive. Still– 

“Ash–” Eiji has the mackerel laid out on a cutting board, and his expression is more than a little lost, “I have no clue what to do from here.” So Ash steps in and starts cutting the fish up, preparing the seasonings, totally forgetting that Eiji absolutely knows how to cut up a fish. He lets Eiji wipe a smudge of flour that he’d used for the breading and then is not very careful with getting the flour all over because he really didn’t mind the softness of that touch. He focuses every brain cell on mixing things up right, checking taste, getting the oil to the right temperature, ensuring that each piece is cooked all the way through, and just crispy enough. Eiji is mostly just cleaning up dishes as Ash makes them, and when there’s no more of that he sits at the counter nearby and watches, head resting on his arms and expression exactly the same as it had been the night he first saw Ash, playing with a gun in a bar– now, hopefully, luckily, a bit more relaxed. Eiji thinks that he’ll have to thank Touya. 

Halfway home, Tomoya Okumura frets in the good-natured way people fret when they haven’t actually had a lot in their lives to fret about recently, and are therefore out of practice. Tomoya has just finished an extremely successful business trip in which he confirmed the plans, location, and contractors for a large, upscale office building in Yemen. His wife loves him approximately twice as much as yesterday, and half as much as tomorrow, and in estimatedly equal proportion to how much he loves her. His daughter has been so changed for the better while he was gone that she’s emerged from her cave to pick him up from the airport in a crowded terminal forty-five minutes away, and she’s even enrolled herself in school of her own initiative. His son is home from America after nine months, and he seems to have had quite the adventure there, even bringing a friend home with him, and he will be enrolled in a university while his sister goes to school. Everything is, to put it in one word, wonderful. 

So, he’s not very practiced in fretting. But he is doing his best– he used the plane ride back to Japan to brush up on his English, and even spent half of the drive home attempting to pronounce “ **Ash** ” with as little of an accent as he could manage. After all, he’s got to be very considerate to the young man who brought his son out of his little shell. When Ei-chan was little, Tomoya and Junko had called him their baby hermit crab– all he wanted to do was play in the sandbox by himself and dig up little pieces of trash people had left in there and call them treasures and show his parents and his sister– even if Junko and Tomoya usually told him he couldn’t bring the treasure home, and Yuki was only just old enough to gurgle and grab at the colorful broken plastic or shiny crumpled can. He’d never tried to play with the other kids, and they never seemed to notice him. Both mom and dad had been worried he might spend his whole life alone, but then there is Ash. 

Yes, Tomoya has to get the accent right, because he just wants to make Ash feel at home. 

According to Yuki, who has also become strangely, adorably endeared to Ash, the man rarely speaks in English at home– only when he’s very excited, and even then only to Eiji. Usually it’s after his shift at Touya’s, apparently. Yuki has mentioned twice that she’s working up the courage to ask him to help her with her English during the coming school year. “You don’t want your old dad to teach you?” Tomoya asks, feigning offense, and says in his stilted accent,  **“I speak English well.”**

Yuki rolls her eyes and says, “Dad, I think Eiji’s English is better than yours.” It’s probably true. Immersion is a great way to learn, and Tomoya’s work does not often take him to America– he’s been twice, once for three days and once for a week, both times with translators. He’s never been to Britain or Australia. 

But there is no time for a dad joke now: they’re home! 

The front door is flung open by Yuki, who screeches to a halt in the kitchen to howl with laughter at the sight of her older brother and his friend, both of them covered in flour. The friend, a tall, thin, blonde man, is laughing hysterically and Eiji, who has added some serious muscle since Tomoya last saw him, is trying to frown, but then he’s grinning and laughing too. Tomoya has never seen him smile so brightly, so he ignores the flour on every conceivable surface of the kitchen and walks right up to Ash– before the man really even has time to notice him– and cries, “ **You must be Ash! So nice to meet you! I heard wonderful things”** in his best English, which is not perfect, but it functions (his coworker, who handles the major dealings with America, taught him these phrases on a cell phone call in the airport). He grabs Ash’s hand and shakes it enthusiastically. 

The room freezes for a moment as Ash registers who is speaking to him. Tomoya sees the barest edge of fear in his face as his eyes go wildly searching around the room, but as those green eyes catch hold of Junko, Yuki, Eiji, and the flour-filled kitchen, he returns the smile and says, “Mr. Okumura, it’s so nice to meet you. Thank you for having me,” in his most polite Japanese. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation notes: I hope the bold font is doing it's job to alert y'all of any English use, but please let me know if anything is ever unclear!
> 
> Also, I know most of these characters are totally invented via the godlike liberties I have taken with canon. What do y'all think of Tomoya? Will anyone hate me if I keep making up characters (because the show didn't really show us much about Eiji's past life in Japan, so there's little to work with)?   
> Anyway, scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!


	8. Happy Birthday, Yuki!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context \/\/\/
> 
> Eiji: while u were busy studying the mathematical curve of the blade, i was being homosexual
> 
> Yuki: ey, bro, when is ur bday??  
> Ash: saldnsjanldfjn NO ANSWERS FOR U TODAY SMALL GREMLIN UR BDAY IS FIRST  
> Eiji: ash I WILL tell mom
> 
> Tomoya: can our kids calm down for like two minutes???  
> Junko: we raised anime protagonists, darling, what do u expect?

Eiji loves Ash from the depths of his soul to the tip of his nose but the man just has to learn how to interact with his dad. Ash skirts around him if he can and hardly makes eye contact if he can’t, always uses extremely polite honorifics and speech, and flinches if Eiji’s dad speaks loudly or sets something down carelessly. There is absolutely no reason for this (although Eiji understands that there really is a reason for this), and it hurts his heart to see Ash so cowed at the prospect of interacting with a man older than him, even if both of them are painfully aware that this man is not Dino fucking Golzine or anyone guilty of similar crimes. Eiji’s dad is a perfectly normal man, if somewhat prone to fantasy, and he just wants to be friends with the American teenager he is probably 40% aware will one day be his son-in-law. 

And this presents another problem: Ash is 18! He mentioned it in passing to Touya once, but he is 18 years old and Eiji is  _ certain _ he was 17 when they met. When did this happen!? Ash has been  _ extremely _ evasive in his answers to this question. Yuki and Eiji have formed a committee dedicated to discovering Ash’s birthday, and they are considering getting Mama Junko in on it as well. Ash has never denied ‘Ma’ even the smallest of requests; if she asked, there’s no way he could hide it. 

But all of this talk of insecurity and birthdays is probably best left for another time– as in,  _ not _ his crash course for his college classes starting in two weeks. He’ll be a year older than his classmates, and he’s been out of practice with schooling for a year, he’s got to catch up. Not that arts with an emphasis in photography is an impacted major, but he’s still got to be on his toes if he wants to keep that partial scholarship. 

He’s halfway given up on this whole last half-hour of class. Instead of taking notes, all his hands seem to be able to do is draw green eyes. Truly unfortunate, but he’s getting close to photorealistic quality, so he’ll comfort himself by saying this is practice for his art class this fall. Yes. This is fine. Now. What in gods’ names is a logarithmic matrix and why are there so many numbers in it? Bah– who needs to know… 

Besides, the most impending birthday is Yuki’s. It’s three days from now, March 23, a week and a half before Eiji’s school starts. Eiji has to make up for missing one, after all, and Ash is entirely out of his 140+ IQ depth with birthdays. He knows the basic mechanics, in theory: there’s cake, colorful decorations, a party, if desired. What he doesn’t know is literally everything else, but he’ll get there. Yuki’s been a little down since school started, that was almost two weeks ago now, but Eiji is sure that a birthday party can cheer her up. He hasn’t yet asked if she wants to do anything with her friends yet– he hasn’t heard her mention anyone, anyway– but nothing cheers people up like a birthday party. Her favorite colors are still pink and yellow, so they’ll have to do something with that for the cake color… 

It’s the morning of her birthday that something goes wrong– and, with how peaceful everything has been, of course it goes wrong. Everyone has helped with the cake early in the morning before Yuki woke up (not that she usually wakes up early, usually on weekends it’s closer to noon) and it has pink frosting and yellow sprinkles and candles. It was difficult to fit four people in the kitchen, Ash and Ma working on the batter while Tomoya and Eiji attempted to make palatable frosting (Ma went to help them eventually, after the cake had gone into the oven). It works though, it was fun. Putting up streamers is fun too. Ash has never done any of this before. It’s fun and it’s not even his birthday. 

Ash saved up money working with Touya to buy Yuki an old game she’d talked about a few times over the months, but said she could never find in any game stores. He’d had to take a train to another city to find it, but there it was in perfect condition. He really hopes she likes it. He’s never given anyone a birthday present before– not even Shorter. He should have given Shorter birthday presents. 

But when noon, and then one o’clock, rolls past without a peep from the bedroom, everyone gets worried. Ma shrugs. “Probably still playing her games,” she murmured with a sigh. “Ash, would you be a dear and help me make some lunch? It’d be best not to eat cake on an empty stomach.” 

Ash gives her an easy smile, still tempered by the anxiety of Tomoya, but the anxiety has been whittling itself into smaller and smaller little tics by the days. They work on some onigiri as one pm turns into two pm and then Eiji puts down his phone and gives an anxious wiggle and says “I’m gonna go wake her up,” before anyone can talk about ruining the surprise, he adds “what if she’s sick? Or her blood sugar could be low again.” 

He sticks his tongue out at Ash, who snaps, in English no less,  **“Eiji, I swear to god I will kill you if you start her birthday by sticking her in a cold shower.”**

“No promises!” Eiji calls as he runs up the stairs.

Tomoya chuckles from the couch, he hadn’t caught all of the words, but “shower” he knows. “Did he really have to wake you up by putting you in the shower?”

“It was miserable.”

Yuki’s bedroom door opens upstairs. Then the bathroom door. Then every other door on the upper floor. “Yuki?” Eiji calls, and there’s a thread of anxiety tightening around his vocal chords now (remember, he’s been kidnapped himself a few times, had friends kidnapped, hell, Ash was kidnapped just a few months ago). But Yuki doesn’t call back. She’s not upstairs, she’s not downstairs. She’s not at home. Her backpack isn’t in her room either. 

“Did she come home last night!?” Tomoya demands. Ash flinches, and Tomoya doesn’t miss that, he lowers his voice. “She wasn’t here for dinner, was she?”

“She said she was eating out with a friend,” Ma cries, and her voice is high and desperate. 

“I’m gonna go look for her,” Ash says. It’s not a question. For him, as for every other member of the Okumura household, this is non-negotiable. Although Ash is more worried: he knows what happens to kids that run away from home. 

It is decided that Tomoya will stay at the house in case she returns. He is the person who is least likely to know where she’s gone. 

Eiji checks one direction, Ma checks another, and Ash checks another. It’s around 2:30 when they set out and they’re told to meet back at home at 5 to check whether they’ve found her. 

“No later than 5:00 pm,” Ma clarifies, “or I’ll be very upset.” Despite her anxiety over Yuki, she takes the time to give them a withering, worried look. She may have temporarily misplaced one, but she will not  _ lose  _ any of her children, not today she won’t.

They all agree, and they all head out. 

Ash knows Ma will check the gaming cafe, where she occasionally goes to ‘beat a boss in the peace and quiet… with pizza.’ Eiji will check her school. Ash is checking the places he is pleading with gods he hardly knows and certainly doesn’t believe in that Yuki did not run to. Nobody’s seen her in the red light district, thank fuck. The homeless encampment directs him to their youngest population, who say she hasn’t been by, but one of them goes to her school, is in her class even (“I’m on a scholarship,” he says, “I get real good grades and they let me learn and give me free coupons for lunch”) and he says she always sits by herself. Says he saw her yesterday at school, at least. It’s 4:53 pm and Ash is running out of places to check that Eiji and Ma haven’t covered. He thanks the boy and runs off in the safest direction he can think of.

Touya does not seem particularly concerned that Ash comes sprinting in the front door like a kid lost at the supermarket, but he rarely ever does, or ever will. Touya’s just not an easily fazable person, especially as he grows older. A few times, he’s seen Ash sprint in for work looking like a demon chased him in, and so he does this time what he’s done every time, and will do every time. 

“Hey, Ash, grab a seat for a minute. I’ll get you a glass of water– you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

These are, unfortunately, the wrong words: they remind Ash exactly the reason a young girl may not have come home after school that has nothing to do with running away and he barely contains a sob.

“I can’t, Touya,” he chokes, “Yuki. Yuki, she didn’t come home last night. She never came home and it’s her birthday and I checked with the homeless people and the red light district and she’s not there and Eiji is checking her school and Ma is checking that gaming cafe she likes and I don’t know where else to check, Touya what if she’s hurt or– or– or–”

“Why would I be in those places?” Yuki drawls a little sharply, emerging from a curtained off little room nestled behind the far wall of the establishment.

Ash takes three seconds to do the breathing thing Ma taught him before he passes out from relief. Then he crosses the room in an instant and wraps Yuki in his arms because that’s his little sister, dammit. She’s alive. She’s safe. Nobody hurt her. She was not kidnapped, sold into sex work, and/or pursuing a career in gang violence. She is still very much herself. She has not turned into a ghost of his past. 

“Where  _ were _ you!?” he demands sharply (much sharper than he’s been in months, possibly the sharpest he’s been this side of the Pacific).

Yuki pushes away from him, arms crossing. “Here,” she mutters. Touya has escaped the room, which is the only reason he is not being leveled with a glare that could kill a man and already has. 

“Why?”

She shuffles her feet. She shrugs. She looks up and sees an echo of that face that had been ready to walk into the underworld and face every demon it would throw at him because her brother went to the store. She can’t really hide things from him now, can she? “School,” she starts, coughs, stutters, and starts again, “school has not been going well.” Tears well up in her eyes, “there’s some kids that bully me. I didn’t want to tell everyone because I didn’t want to cause trouble for you all, but I got so tired of lying so fast and then yesterday I just didn’t want to have to come home and lie to everyone on my birthday. I just wanted to…” she trails off, unsure of how to finish because she doesn’t really know what she wanted. It’s all so messed up now. 

“Yuki,” Ash says very calmly, “what are their names?”

“What?”

“What are the names? Of the kids who bully you?” Yuki raises her eyes to search his face for meaning, and then wishes she hadn’t when Ash looks ready to kill someone in cold blood. She knows very well now that he has had practice. Where’s Eiji when you need him?

“It’s probably time to head home, huh?” she redirects. 

For a moment, Ash is poised to press the information out of her, but then his eyes snap to the wall clock behind the counter and he cries, in English, “ **Shit! Ma’ll have my head for this!”**

“What!?” Yuki replies, having only understood the word ‘shit’ and his general tone.

“I was supposed to check in at 5:00,” he whispers, back in Japanese, “Ma is gonna  _ kill _ me.” Yuki personally thinks that Eiji will be more upset than her mother (who has never been able to stay mad with anyone for long, especially not Ash). 

Touya’s face appears from behind the curtain with a knowing smile, “I’ve just given your mother a call. The whole family will be here in a few minutes.”

Yuki sighs, halfway anxious and halfway smiling. “I guess we’re both in for it, huh?”

And when Tomoya, Ma, and Eiji all arrive, they are  _ all _ crying. 

“Why did you leave?” Tomoya pushes.

“Why didn’t you come home?” Ma coaxes.

“We were so worried,” Eiji cries.

It takes ten minutes of Yuki hugging her parents and Ash hugging Eiji to calm them all down, and then they transition smoothly from sobbing to angry, and then Yuki explains, and then they easily slide their anger to Ash, who did not check in at 5:00 like he was supposed to. 

He defends himself with, “I found her though!”

“Then you should have called!” Eiji shouts. He’s getting angrier by the syllable. It’s unlike him. Only Ash really understands why, but he still can’t bring himself to accept the fact that people worry about him.

Ash throws his hands up in frustration. His face is contorted with denial and stress. “There was no danger. I was fine. Yuki was fine.”

“But  _ I didn’t know that _ ,” Eiji hisses, “and you should know better than to think I did.”

At this point Yuki, Tomoya, Ma, and even Touya are watching this exchange with wide eyes. They don’t know the circumstances that preceded Ash and Eiji coming home. They don’t know what they were doing, how they were surviving, those nine months in America. Hell, they don’t even know how these two met. They can see the visceral fear in Eiji’s eyes but they can’t fathom where it’s coming from– although Yuki can cast guesses that would land in the correct area code. 

But those words crack Ash’s defense. His own fear dissipates in the face of Eiji’s. Ash doesn’t have to keep those kinds of walls up anymore. He hasn’t had to since he handed some dumb tourist in a bar his gun a year ago. Eiji’s had to drag his ass out of a fire more than once: of course he’d be worried. “I’m sorry I didn’t check in,” he sighs, “I panicked. I got scared and wanted to make sure Yuki was safe.”

Now, this family has  _ never _ – not in their whole entire lives– seen Eiji as angry as he just was. They’ve never known what kind of things Eiji and Ash were doing overseas. Both boys had been speaking Japanese but it may as well have been another language for how little they understood what just happened. For Tomoya, some things click into place. Ma feels the weight of a lack of understanding settle on her shoulders. Yuki is intimidated by the mess of puzzle-piece facts her brain does not want to push together into a picture. Touya says “Well, the birthday girl has been found. Does she want a special birthday dinner as a present from a certain old man?”

Immediately, attention snaps to him. Ash doesn’t know why, but everyone who’s had a birthday at Touya’s does.

“Does that mean–?” Yuki stutters.

Touya nods, ebullient, “That is right, young lady: Touya’s specialty ramen! Made with special secret ingredients!” He seemed to have been ready for this outcome, because he emerges with four servings less than ten minutes later, all bagged up to go. “This is a very important birthday, isn’t it?” he suggests jovially, “I thought you would want to celebrate at home.” Yuki wraps him in an uncharacteristically tight hug before skittering out the door and power-walking home, excited beyond reason for the special birthday ramen.

Eiji still won’t quite look at Ash, but everyone makes it a fun evening of ramen (which is ludicrously delicious, and makes Ash question its contents) and candles and cake and presents and whichever video games Yuki chooses to play. Nobody asks her anything she wouldn’t want to talk about, and she does not have to lie. 

It is only long after she has holed up in her room for the night, long after Mom and Dad have disengaged with social interaction to quietly enjoy being next to each other, that Ash slips into Eiji’s open bedroom door and sits resolutely on the floor next to the bed. He’s prepared himself for whatever Eiji can say to him. He’s done something stupid and he knows he’s going to have to get this over with. People are angry with you when you do stupid things. 

Eiji finishes the page of the book that he was on before he looks up– if only so he does not have to deal with how painfully awkward Ash is when he knows how to be as stealthy as a black cat and deliberately chooses to be as stealthy as a golden retriever in the name of not scaring the living shit out of the occupant of the room who is doing his best to look like he’s occupied and not like he’s been running through the events of the night sixty-three different ways trying to figure out why certain people behaved the way they did. 

“I’m not mad,” Eiji clarifies to start, “I mean, I’m kind of mad, but only because I was scared.” He turns the page of the book he was never really reading because he can and because he isn’t sure what else to do with his hands. He’s never been that angry with Ash before. It doesn’t feel right to be so dissonant with someone you’re so close to. When the silence stretches itself out like a yogi and lays down like a mat and settles into something unbearable, Eiji flips the book shut and turns to see Ash stone-faced, knees-to-chest, and waiting like a criminal at his execution. He shouldn’t be. “C’mon, Ash,” Eiji pleads, “this communication thing is two-player game. I can’t open myself up if you’re hiding behind your walls– you’ve got to work with me.” Ash’s tough facade cracks, but the scare of the day hit him hard, and he’s not ready to put it down. Eiji sighs, “Ash, you’ve got to know I’d never hurt you, right? I just want to talk.”

This crumbles the rest of the foundations, and Ash’s forehead falls to his knees with a shivering sigh. “I was so scared,” he whispers, “anyone could have had her. She could have been hurt. She could have turned out like me.” He’s not crying, can’t cry at a time like this, but the fear is absolute and pure and overwhelming. He’s panicking. He’s been panicking all day. 

Satisfied with the opening up, but also unsatisfied with leaving the conversation as it is, Eiji scoots to the floor and pulls Ash in with one arm. “I was scared too. I thought ‘what if she was lost, or hurt.’ It was scary, Ash, and that’s alright. She’s home now. She’s playing her new game in bed and she’s as safe as can be.” Ash’s head comes out of hiding to rest on Eiji’s shoulder. “It’s alright to be scared, Ash,” Eiji repeats, “but we can’t let it cloud our judgment. Both of us.” Ash nods against the hard bone of Eiji’s shoulder. “Do you know how scared Mom was? She was absolutely frantic. I had to get Dad on the phone to calm her down, she thought she’d lost both of you. Ash, you aren’t just you. You’re one of us. You belong here, and we all care about you. You don’t get to be reckless with your life anymore because if you’re gone we’ll all be heartbroken. We all love you, Ash. We really, really do.”

There’s a long silence. They can both hear Mom and Dad murmuring to each other downstairs while they do the dishes. They can hear the fringes of the sounds emanating from Yuki’s new game. They can hear the wind whipping some trees into different shapes outside. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t check in at 5,” Ash croaks, voice hoarse with emotion. He doesn’t know what else to say. He’s never had to deal with such heavy love before. He’s never had to work through what to do with the knowledge that someone loves you, or what to say back. He’s never had the chance to hear someone tell him that he would be missed, that his life has value to them on an emotional, personal level. That they’d be heartbroken without him. He’s never had someone tell him it’s okay. He’s never had anyone say that it’s okay to be afraid. He’s never had someone tell him they were scared too. He’s never had anyone who forced him to crack open his shell and take the storm of emotion in and that everything is alright and that his feelings are understood and that he is an important piece of something bigger and wonderful and full of love and he’s never had a family. His gang was like a family. Max was like a family. His brother and his parents were like a family. But not like this. He’s never encountered this and so he doesn’t know what else to say. 

“It’s okay, Ash,” Eiji chirps back, “just come right home next time.”

“I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm like 10 minutes late... if anybody lives in the Carlsbad, California area hmu. My cat has gone missing and I'll take any help I can get. He's a brown tabby with a white tummy and paws. Very friendly. Usually responds to "Sam," or any entreaties that involve fruit snacks.   
> Anyways, here's some angst boiiiisssssssss. Love y'all. Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!


	9. Without knowing where you are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context \/\/\/
> 
> Yuki, nervously: what the fuuuck???
> 
> Eiji: i haven't felt the tender touch of restful sleep in years
> 
> Tomoya: I have THREE children, whomst I love VERY MUCH  
> Ash: i'm sorry could you please speak up? i think i misheard you over what must have been a severe concussion

It’s not like Ash is the only one who did fucked up stuff in America. Yuki has known since she heard Eiji’s voice on the phone telling her he was coming home that he was different than before. Sure, there’s the stuff where he cries less now and he flinches when she accidentally slams doors and he  _ refused  _ to go get his shots at the doctor’s office and he talks with a bit more of a spine now and he’s got that scar. But there’s other stuff too. Lots of other little stuff and Yuki is doing her best to pretend she can’t piece together what it all means. She does not want to imagine these things. She does not want to acknowledge that they are real but here they are tattooed to the inside of her brothers’ eyelids and echoing in every step they take. 

Apparently Nii-chan doesn’t sleep as well as he used to either. Yuki figured that one out on accident. She had just beat a minor boss– but it had been a  _ pain _ in her  _ ass _ with all of his little heal spells and minions– and she wanted to go show Eiji and Ash. Well, Nii-chan’s room is right next to hers so she’d show him first. But his door is shut, which is weird, because he always sleeps with it open. It’s almost never closed. He  _ hates _ when his door is closed, he’s told her that a million times, he likes the window open and the door open because there’s always a nice cross-breeze that he says takes all the ‘stagnant air’ out of the room, whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean. And the door, upon closer inspection, is  _ locked _ . This boy would never lock his door… unless. 

Then she immediately tip-toe-sprints to Ash’s room at the end of the hall because the only reason she can think of for Eiji to lock his door is Ash is in there with him doing things other people should not see. There is not an ice cube’s chance in hell that she could pass up on teasing them about that. But Ash-nii, when she wiggles his door open, is right there in bed– asleep until the creak of his door rouses him. So. Not with Nii-chan then.

“Did’ja need som’n, Yuki?” he mumbles, Japanese slurred almost out of recognition in his groggy semi-wakefulness, starting to sit up.

It’s technically one in the morning. Yuki kinda feels bad for waking him up. “No,” she whispers back, “I thought you were in Nii-chan’s room, ‘cause his door is locked, so I wanted to check.”

Still somewhat sleep-muddled, Ash furrows his brow. “His door’s  _ locked _ ?” he clarifies. Yuki nods, and Ash mutters “that’s kinda weird,” before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and wandering down the hall, stepping for a moment into the bathroom and reemerging with a bobby pin, and then settling on his haunches next to Eiji’s doorknob. There’s some clicking inside the lock mechanism, and it’s open in seconds. 

The next weird thing is that Nii-chan’s window isn’t open either. It may be a particularly chilly and dark hour at the beginning of May, but Eiji usually does not care. He hates for the room to get too still. But the windows are shut and locked, and the curtains are drawn tight, and there is the blanket that had been on the bed before covering the window.

Also, Eiji isn’t in bed. Yuki expects Ash to panic in the exaggerated way he had when Eiji went to the store that one time, or at least to be as panicked as she is, but he just goes right to the edge of the bed and sits down and leans over to peer under it. 

“Eiji, buddy, you gotta come out from under the bed. It’s cold and uncomfortable down there, and I know you haven’t vacuumed the floor there in too long for that to be clean… Can you hear me, Eiji?… There’s nobody out here that’s gonna hurt you– just me and Yuki. You don’t gotta be scared. You know I’d never let anyone hurt you. You’re totally safe. There’s nobody outside the window either. Watch.” 

Nii-chan hadn’t moved or made a noise while Ash-nii talked, but when he went to the window and started to take down the blanket, little scooching noises started to emerge from underneath the bed and Eiji drags himself out to stop Ash from uncovering the window he always liked to keep open. He mumbles “don’t” without elaborating, but Ash doesn’t seem to mind and just says “okay,” and very slowly, very carefully winds his arms around Eiji’s shoulders at which point Eiji sighs, gives one heaving, dry sob, and falls immediately asleep. Ash has a tough time lifting Eiji high enough to get him on the bed, but he manages it while Yuki stands in a dumbfounded silence in the doorway. 

Then Ash finishes pulling the blanket off the window and tucks Eiji in with it, raising a gratified little  _ hmmm  _ from him, and he pushes back the curtains and opens the window wide to let in a refreshingly cold burst of wind that settles into a soft, breathing zephyr. Like it never happened, Ash sits next to Eiji on the bed, smooths back Eiji’s hair, settles a soft smile in his eyes, and looks back to Yuki.

“You woke me up for another reason, right?” he coaxes.

She doesn’t know how to reply. It takes her brain several seconds to reboot from the absolute  _ bullshit _ that this situation is before she can squeak out, “Uuuh, yeah. Yeah. I finally beat that one boss in Heartstar Destination.”

This wakes Nii-chan up and he immediately replies, “Oh, good job, Yuki. That guy was a  **bitch** ,” with ‘bitch’ being specifically in English, before Ash-nii can say anything.

Yuki gives a tentative thumbs up.

Eiji is not ready to go back to bed (what little he’d had of it so far) without asking “Ash, how is your shoulder?”

“Huh?”

“Your shoulder, you got shot once.” 

Which absolutely  _ floors _ Yuki, who is still doing her best not to think about whatever the fuck her brothers were doing in America, but she thinks she hides it well.

“It’s fine, I haven’t felt it in months.”

“Liar. Gunshots hurt for a long time,” which is worse, because this implies Eiji knows what a gunshot feels like, “Lemme see.”

Grumbling and reluctant, Ash-nii pulls the collar of his shirt down just enough to reveal that he is still somewhat thinner than anyone would like and that there is, in fact, a thick, messy cobweb of scar tissue from a bullet wound. No more than a few centimeters in diameter, but still scary. It’s too close to Ash’s chest for Yuki’s comfort. She’s too certain that there are other scars, just like this one, that she is not privy to, for her comfort. 

“Eiji, I’m  _ fine _ ,” Ash murmurs, and continues in English that Yuki can’t understand. She knows Ash-nii doesn’t baby her often. She knows that whatever he is saying, she does not want to know. Three and a half months ago she had thought there would never be anything she didn’t want to know. 

She takes her cue to leave the room. Yuki doesn’t know if she was wrong to intrude on… whatever Nii-chan was doing, or if she was right to bring Ash-nii to him. Everything about it was strange and a little bit intimidating. Like wandering into a faerie circle at exactly 11:11 or when there is suddenly a  _ lot _ of health potions lying around in a seemingly empty room of a video game’s dungeon. She feels like a bullet was dodged, but she doesn’t know what the bullet is or who exactly dodged it. It’s a muddy feeling. 

Once every few nights, Eiji’s door will be locked, now that Yuki and Ash know to look for it. They’ll just be going to the bathroom or getting a drink of water or wandering the house late at night and that door will be shut and locked. Sometimes Yuki is the one who has to tiptoe into Ash’s room and wake him up (and not think about how he’s tossing and turning with a helpless, pained expression that implies nightmares of his own) and tell him Nii-chan’s door is locked, because she can’t pick locks yet, and she hardly knows what she’d be able to say when she crossed the threshold of the room. Other nights, Yuki hears Ash’s door open, followed by the bathroom door opening and closing twice, and then the small mechanical twinkle of a picked lock opening, and then the blurry vibrations through the walls of murmuring voices that taper off as one or the other of them falls asleep, and eventually the creak of the window being opened and then Ash will go back to his own room and resume his sleeping if he can fall asleep.

Once, an ungodly scream ripped the night’s quiet to shreds and Yuki threw her game down to sprint all twelve feet to her brother’s room just in time to see Ash drag him out from under the bed and pull him close to his chest and rock him back and forth like a baby on the floor, murmuring in a chaotic mix of Japanese and English that she could only parse out bits of between the language barrier and the way her heart is hammering in her chest and the echoes of that broken cry mutilating the air in the hallway “okay/shh/ **Shorter** /don’t worry **/don’t worry** / okay/ I know/ **fuck** / he’s alright now/ **Skipper** /I’ve got you/ **okay** /okay…” Dad, the lighter sleeper of her parents, skidded to a halt next to her in the hallway, and Ash-nii’s eyes darted up to register their appearance before beckoning them in with a wave of his hand and murmuring to Nii-chan in English and whispering to them “he doesn’t know where he is, move slowly.” They both entered in iotas at a time and Dad, his hair wild and eyes tired, brushed Nii-chan’s hair out of his panicked face and said “You’re safe, my little hermit crab,” a nickname she knew he had called Eiji when he was young but that went out of use before she was old enough to remember it. Nii-chan stared an empty stare for several seconds, but the tenseness of fight slowly left him and he whispered “I did it again, huh?” while his eyes refamiliarized themselves with the room and the people in it. “Don’t worry about it,” Ash-nii had said, and he readjusted his grip on Eiji’s shoulders to be more comfortable for both of them and Yuki was forced to remember the scar hiding under his pajamas. The whole thing had been so alarming that Ash didn’t remember to be so guarded around Dad, and everyone said goodnight to each other for a second time with an awkward placidness. Yuki layed in bed and forced herself to fall asleep so she wouldn’t have to think about her older brothers so vulnerable. 

The issue is that none of Ash’s old coping mechanisms work anymore. He used to have a very precisely designed system: If you like it, protect it, and if you can’t protect it, leave it; if you don’t like it, hurt it, if you can’t hurt it, use it, and if you can’t use it, kill it. That system worked perfectly fine in New York. In Life/Death situations. In gang warfare and police proceedings. It does not work in suburban Japan. It does not work when nobody is actively attempting to dismember your soul from your body. It does not work when you’re surrounded by compassion and care. This doesn’t mean that Ash can very easily snap out of these habits, and fully-grown men, no matter how whimsical and kind, are still perceived as threats as far as the unconscious parts of Ash’s brain are concerned. 

So when Okumura Tomoya’s knuckles rap quietly on Ash’s door one morning, every instinct says to run, scream, fight, even kill. To be fair, for most of Ash’s life, a grown man had only knocked so quietly on his door if he had sexual intentions that he didn’t want discovered. But Tomoya is a whimsical and kind man who has respected Ash’s personal space, both physical and emotional, for the whole three weeks, nearly a month, that he’d been home, and Ash knows he’s got to give at some point. He can’t be scared forever. So he reminds himself of everything he knows (this is Eiji’s dad, this is Yuki’s dad, this is Ma’s husband, he calls Eiji his hermit crab and Yuki his knight and Ma the queen of the moon, he plays along with stupid game shows on the TV, he prefers to set moths free outside instead of swatting them) and opens the door. 

**“Ash, hey, would you like to come with me?”** Tomoya asks in his accented, but improving, English.

Ash grins, and feels that it’s more real than he expected. “Sure, where are we going?” he replies in the more habitual Japanese of the house. One part of his mind screams that he should never follow a man to an unknown second location (Shorter’s sister was always saying that), but he shoves it down and listens to the rational part that insists that Tomoya would never hurt him, and that most men probably wouldn’t either. 

They get in Tomoya’s car– technically Ma knows how to drive, but she doesn’t like to very much, so it’s Tomoya’s car– and they go into the denser parts of the city and they find a cafe and they sit down and Tomoya orders something that ends up looking like a milkshake and Ash orders a black coffee and a croissant. When Tomoya asks “you  _ really _ like your coffee just plain like that? I didn’t think any Americans did! It’s so bitter that way, why don’t you add some cream and sugar?” Ash does actually add two spoonfuls of cream and some sugar. He hasn’t put anything in his coffee since he was very little. Dino had insisted he take it black,  _ like a man _ he had said, when he was fourteen, and gangsters don’t hold back on teasing a boy who puts cream and sugar in his coffee. But it does taste better this way. He’s glad he put it in after one sip.

“Wonderful day,” Tomoya says after a few long draws from the straw coming out of his milkshake-esque drink. “The clouds cover up the sun just right, so it’s not too cold or too hot. I love this weather.”

Ash nods, unsure of the direction of the conversation and unsure of his footing in it. 

Tomoya seems to notice his discomfort, he smiles warmly. “I’ll get straight to the point, Ash: I’m leaving in a week, and I wanted– I needed to have this talk with you.”

Every panic alarm available to Ash in non-movement formats goes off. Eiji’s dad is going to kick him out. Eiji’s dad is going to tell him he can’t ever see Eiji again– or Ma or Yuki. Eiji’s dad is going to say he hates him. Eiji’s dad is going to say he  _ knows _ what Ash has done. Eiji’s dad is going to leave him at this unfamiliar cafe in the middle of this big city and Ash will be on the streets again, alone. 

Of course, Tomoya says none of this. He takes a sip of his drink and says “Ash, I know you love my son,” and Ash expects the hammer here, “and I know Ei-chan loves you,” and then he expects it here, “but,” and here it comes, “I think I’d like to work on my relationship with you,” and he winks playfully, whimsically, very in-character, “as your future father-in-law.”

This was not just unexpected. It came so far out of left field that the ball hit Ash in the side of the head and gave him a severe concussion, leaving him confused, disoriented, and lying on his ass in the dirt. 

“I know I biologically have two children, but I’d like to consider you my third. I want to be able to be a good father to you, and I want to start that here.”

What?? The fuck? Max had been one thing. That had been a legal matter, a convenience matter. Max was more an older brother than a father– the way Ash is to Yuki, kind of, with more kidnappings involved. But this? What is this? How the fuck does one deal with this?? What the fuck? Ash’s brain short circuits with the knowledge that a man  _ wants _ to be his father. His own dad hadn’t even wanted to be his father! Every man old enough to be his father had either tried to kill him, raped him, or both! What is this?? Bullshit! How does this happen? How can Ash deserve something like this?? 

While Ash’s logical brain recovers from the concussion, his emotional brain registers only an overwhelming, unknown, and indescribable emotion, and begins to relieve some of the internal pressure via the tear ducts. 

“Only if you want!” Tomoya immediately begins to ramble. “I shouldn’t have presumed, I mean, I’m sure you already have a father, and I know this may seem very sudden, I just want you to feel like you can come to me for anything you need! Yuki says I’m too paternal. If you’re uncomfortable–”

“No,” Ash whispers, his voice low and hyperaware of the fact that there are other people in the coffee shop that could be watching him, seeing him cry, seeing him vulnerable. It makes his skin crawl, so he sucks in the tears and does his best to ignore how red his eyes must be, how stuffy his nose. “I wouldn’t– I wouldn’t mind that. I’d, um, like that a lot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope u all enjoy the fact that i very well could have left you with a cliffhanger, but i DIDN'T. everything hurts. my life is disintegrating. nothing has really gone right outside of my writing for a solid 3 years now. but we are gonna LIVE bitch.
> 
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!


	10. A Crouching Tiger Sets the Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context \/\/\/
> 
> Tomoya: Yeet
> 
> Yuki: ppl r mean :/  
> Literally everyone in this family: who the FUCK hurt my BABY SISTER
> 
> Eiji: ash wut r u holding???  
> Ash, running off camera towards some random highschoolers: a KNIFE. :D  
> Eiji, dropping the camera: NO!
> 
> Junko: i am insidious. i am to be feared. i am a force of deceptive conspiracy.   
> Yuki: >.>  
> Junko: i will not be deterred. i have a goal and i will not waver  
> Eiji: o~o  
> Junko: this plan will come to fruition. my inception was perfect. nobody will see it coming.  
> Ash: :(  
> Junko: u r a nice boi ash  
> Ash: 0.0 a fukin WUT

The last day that Tomoya is there, everyone showers him with hugs and jokes and well-wishings and miss-yous. Even Ash gives him a stiff, awkward hug and a “come back soon.” They’ve made progress in Tomoya’s last week, and the rest of the family has tried to be respectful of the awkward new dynamic they’re trying to build. Yuki loves to say “since you’re my brother-in-law in everything but title” and Ma thinks that nothing has felt so natural since before her son left the country and Eiji knows a lot more about what this means and has held open a listening ear for the strange softness Ash feels halfway comfortable enough to tell him about.

And then Tomoya leaves and the rest of the family, by a few days later, has remembered they have another problem: Yuki’s school. Yuki wakes up dutifully every morning, takes the bento Ma packs her, rides the train a few stops to her high school, and is a model student– at least, her teacher has said she never causes any trouble and she gets fantastic grades– but she, like her brother, is not much of a socialite, and the visibility one gets when receiving top-5 rankings in every subject does not combine well with video games and hoodies and being a friendless girl in high school. Yuki gets harassed a few times each day, pulls her shoes out of the trash can before riding the train home, and does her homework next to Eiji after dinner, while Ash takes notes on both their printouts to keep himself occupied (unless he’s making dessert). She’s holding her head up, and that’s as much as can be expected, maybe more, but nobody likes the complacency of it, and everyone has different ideas about how to handle it. 

Yuki thinks she should ignore the girls– they’re dumbasses, and three-dimensional, and altogether not worth her time. If they don’t like that someone who doesn’t care about their looks is getting top marks, they should just get top marks or they should shut up. She doesn’t care about them. Much.

Ma thinks a teacher should get involved. An adult will certainly know how to diffuse the situation effectively, and the school really shouldn’t have let this go on so long. Her daughter is being bullied, nobody is doing anything behind closed doors, so a more direct approach should be taken.

Ash– and Eiji after some convincing– think they should  _ personally _ visit Yuki’s school. If the bullies are hiding nothing, and the teachers have not stepped in, they’re not going to be helpful– it doesn’t matter why, maybe the school is taking bribes or maybe it has a reputation or maybe the teacher is inept, but it doesn’t matter because they’re not helpful. They think they can make an impact, through respect or fear, on these impressionable highschoolers. Is it low for an ex-gangster and a college student to scare the shit out of some high schoolers? Perhaps. Do they care? Fuck no, those bastards messed with Yuki, they don’t get mercy– not that they’re going to be maiming, or even injuring the children, but some psychological terror seems to be in order. 

So, without consulting Ma, who would have told them no and they would have listened, they coordinate a day where Eiji does not have class and Ash does not have work and they ride the train a few stops to Yuki’s school to pick her up one day. The bullies are easy to spot because Yuki described them before: a girl with her hair cut around her ears, a boy with a poorly covered tattoo on the inside of his wrist, a girl with round glasses, and a girl with dangly earrings and pigtails. There are a few others who contribute, and everyone is a bystander, but these four friends seem to be the root of the issue. 

**“Hi, do you kids go to this school?”** Ash asks in his most American English.

None of the kids seem to comprehend him. One tentatively says “ **_No English_ ** .” Another murmurs, “That’s the dumbest fucking tourist I’ve ever seen.”

Ash smiles at them, “ **Do you know Yuki? Yuki Okumura?”**

This sparks recognition in their eyes. They snicker. 

“You know her?” Ash asks again, in Japanese this time. The kids don’t notice the switch.

“Who’d want to?” The girl with the earrings scoffs.

“Well, me for one, you absolute lowlives,” Ash snaps.

The kids give him wide-eyed shock in response. Other kids, the ones who aren’t skipping classes, are starting to trickle out of the building. Yuki won’t be out yet– she still has to dig her shoes out of the trash. 

“Who are you?” The girl with the short hair asks.

Eiji replies, “Her brothers.” He isn’t planning on saying much, because he– due to a lack of practice– is not yet fantastic at threatening people. He does say this with enough venom to asphyxiate four high schoolers.

“That blonde guy is  _ not  _ her brother.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Ash whispers, leaning into the conversation, “call me a hitman, hired muscle, I don’t care what you  _ think _ as long as you  _ feel _ afraid for your safety and  _ stop bothering Okumura Yuki _ .”

The guy with the tattoo must feel some pubescent testosterone flaring up because he takes a step forward and pokes Ash in the chest, “What the fuck kinda authority do you have, ordering us around?”

“The kind where I’ll break your fingers, and then your arms, if I find out you’ve even slightly inconvenienced her.” His smile drops, and he grabs the kid’s finger, still shoved into the too-thin muscle next to his sternum. “Like this.” and he does not break the kid’s finger, but he does pull it in a convincing way that has the boy screaming (out of fear, not pain: to be clear the boy is completely fine)– voice cracking and everything– before running off, followed by his friends. 

They had been off to the side, and with their whole debacle, they’re so distracted with a quiet squabble (“that was too much, Ash. What if he tells his parents?” “Tells them what? A blonde foreigner pulled his finger? I didn’t even hurt him”) that they almost miss Yuki as she exits the school courtyard, head down, eyes down.

Eiji swings an arm around her shoulders and she flinches, realizes who it is, and shrugs out of his grasp with a few words sharp enough to convince them both that she is none worse for the wear. She receives no more torment at school or outside it. She doesn’t have immediate and blossoming friendships with her classmates, but she doesn’t get her shoes thrown in the trash can either. She’s just left to herself, and she says she prefers it that way, and nobody can really force her into any friendships, so that’s good enough, at least. She’s safe at school, and she knows she can always go to Ma or Eiji or Ash. 

It turns out that Eiji and Yuki never had to recruit their mother to their cause anyway. Junko’s had her own agenda of the same sort all along, her tactics are just more insidious than her children’s. But, like a crouching tiger, she bided her time until the opportunity presented and then sprung and captured the target in an instant that Eiji and Yuki had failed to glimpse in their trial of months.

She lets Ash cook dinner. Ash likes to cook– loves it, in fact. Other than Yuki, who still prefers her forced ignorance to drawing any of the horrifying conclusions she is certain lay beneath those green eyes, everyone is sure Ash has never really had a simple, low-risk hobby. Cooking is a first for him, they are discovering, and it makes him happy enough to vault over countertops and sweep the nearest member of the household off their feet in an excited spin for just a second and gush to Yuki or Eiji about something he really just  _ liked _ . Cooking makes Ash calm even when storms of memories brew in the furrow on his forehead or grief deadens his hands or anxiety brings his breath to the edge of bedlam. Ash is calm and happy when he cooks. So Junko lets him cook dinner tonight.

She sets the table, and she smiles at him as he grills salmon in a pan on the stove. “Do you like salmon especially?” she asks.

“No,” he replies with a shrug, “but Yuki does– she asked me to make salmon tonight.”

Junko’s smile widens. “That’s very nice of you.” Saying this is a risky move. Ash doesn’t respond well to honest admiration. He’ll take Eiji’s half-teasing compliments (always containing a hidden pill of a real appreciation, within the more palatable wrapping), and he’ll take Yuki’s heat-of-the-moment screams of euphoria when he helps her beat a boss in one of her games, but genuine and simply-stated compliments as direct as Junko prefers to make them are not his forte. She’s seen him spiral downwards and away from her for hours when she did it once– she’d had no clue what she’d done wrong, and Eiji had to unpeel him from the corner of his room when he got home from cram school. So. This had been a risk. But she’ll say it anyway. She’s going to be telling this boy exactly how much she loves his dear little soul for a whole lifetime now, so she’s got to get him used to it somehow. 

He accepts it as much as he’s able: he scoffs and shrugs and says “I was going to have to make  _ something _ for dinner.”

When the rice and salmon are ready, and Eiji and Yuki have been summoned from their respective homework assignments to eat, Junko lets them lead the conversation. 

Yuki regails the family with her epic battle with her maths teacher– who has been giving her extra work, to keep her challenged and therefore engaged in class, and Yuki had to explain a problem to him three times before he realized the question had an exponent in the wrong place, giving her a different solution than the answer key. And, she adds, in her English class, her teacher told her her accent “almost sounds natural.” Oh, and in literature she got the interpretation so different from the rest of the class that nobody had any clue at all what she was talking about, but she still thinks she was correct. Junko tells her she probably was– there aren’t a whole lot of wrong ways to interpret most literary pieces, in her opinion. Of course, Junko isn’t a professional teacher, unless you count being a mother, so she can’t say her opinion has much academic merit. Eiji and Ash both say that all of Yuki’s teachers sound dumb– even if her English teacher is nice. 

Eiji, now enrolled in his first year of college, and finished with the general education in cram school, is enthralled with every aspect of his new photography class. He thinks Ash should be his model, and Ash says, in English, “ **_absolutely fucking not,_ ** ” which Junko chides softly (because she knows English swear words, and she won’t have Yuki picking those up just yet), so Eiji asks Yuki, and Yuki says thank you but she’d rather jump off a cliff than wear a frilly dress and smile for the camera. Eiji then becomes discouraged and says that would ruin the whole point: he wants to capture people in their natural habitat. Ash has a bitter comment about that, also in carefully guarded English that Junko does not know, and Eiji says “come on, Ash, you know that’s not true.” Ash shrugs. 

Junko almost gives up on her plan. She doesn’t want to spring it on him if he’s already having a bad mental health day. Maybe she could postpone it, ask him sometime just after he’s gotten off shift with Touya. Of course, then Yuki and Eiji might not be around to hear it. 

Eiji knows Ash better than anyone though, and he says “Well, if you feel that way, maybe we should eat natto for breakfast every day.”

“That has nothing to do with  _ anything _ –”

“Oh, yes it does.” Eiji sniffs and gives Ash a haughty sideways glance. 

Really, it’s all nonsense though. “You’re insufferable,” Ash mutters, purposefully tamping down a smile.

“Aw, that hurts my feelings,” Eiji pouts.

“I didn’t mean it, stupid.”

“If you two are going to make out, please go upstairs,” Yuki grumbles, poking her salmon with significantly less enthusiasm than before.

Both boys splutter. Eiji goes red in the face– which, knowing her son, Junko has some guesses that she politely does not voice– and Ash presses his lips together as if to insinuate he has never kissed anyone before in his life– which, knowing her son, Junko has some more guesses that she politely pretends not to guess in the first place. 

“Actually, Ash,” Junko interjets, taking full advantage of the embarrassment of the moment to pounce, “I had a question for you.”

Ash looks, for an instant, like a pit has opened in his stomach and his feet have dropped through it. Fear, guilt, revulsion, self-loathing– for a moment, the unreadable boy is a book on page sixty-three, and she has not read the previous sixty-two pages for context. 

She continues quickly, “What day  _ is _ your birthday, Ash?”

He looks relieved. “August 12th,” he whispers. 

Eiji gasps, Yuki gapes, and then Eiji cries out in fervent, excited English,  **“** **_You didn’t tell me your birthday while we were in America?”_ **

Ash, still in English, replies, “ **_We had more important stuff going on: being chased by Golzine and I think that might have been around the time we visited my old house, and all that stuff with Yut-Lung and my dad and getting shot and stuff.”_ **

_ “ _ **_You got_ ** **shot** **_on your_ ** **birthday** **_!?”_ **

**_“I don’t know, there was a lot going on.”_ **

They continue like this for several minutes. Of course, Junko and Yuki understand little to none of it, but the boys are more excited than upset, almost joking about the whole thing, so they glance at each other over the table and laugh. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kjwhf;djosacm;sokdjfoijf y'all it really be like it be. i keep going to the local shelters to look for my cat and i never find him but i always see the same cats there and they just want to be held and they come up to the glass to see you and idk I would not want my baby there for even a week-- he would be so lonely!! so i might just walk in and ask them if I can adopt whichever cat has been there the longest. give a baby the good home every baby deserves. anyway. sorry. nowhere else to say that. I feel like this is akin to putting this in the middle of a cooking blog recipe post. 
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy this lighter chapter!! I certainly did (you will be getting a FULL dose of angst in the future DON'T YOU WORRY)
> 
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!


	11. You Tell Yourself That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context: \/\/\/
> 
> Eiji: time to punch my boyfriend in the face!   
> Ash, the aforementioned boyfriend: I probably deserve it
> 
> Yuki, frantically googling: HOW DO YOU CONJUGATE VERBS IN ENGLISH IT'S IMPORTANT

Eiji never really knows when his dreams stop and reality begins. Usually, it’s so clear– in America, it was so clear. Sleep was a blank space of rest. Wake was a chaotic avalanche of panic. They had been very separate entities. Now, though, now that wake has become more than anything he could have hoped for before, sleep must balance things, and the line between blurs itself as best as it can.

He’ll go to sleep each night. He needs a sleep aid sometimes because he’s become so scared of what sleep brings. Nothing at first, but as the night progresses, his dreams become disorganized, then chaotic, then distressing, before finally becoming unmanageably painful and terrifying and his body shocks itself awake as a defense mechanism to save itself from a thousand painful deaths– his own or someone else’s. Sleep paralysis takes over for just a few minutes, just enough time for Eiji to become confused. Where is he? Is Blanca outside with a gun, waiting to shoot him? Yut-Lung going to strangle him? A rival gang going to beat him with bats and break his legs? Other hired mercenaries waiting to kidnap him and bring him to Golzine for a fate worse than death– a fate Ash endured his whole childhood– Gods, Eiji, why couldn’t you have found Ash sooner!? He’s in a safehouse, in a warehouse, in Ash’s childhood house. None of them are a home because, in these episodes, Eiji scarcely knows what a home is. Just buildings called houses because sometimes people live in them and Eiji is certain he’ll die in them. When the adrenaline kicks in and forces his body to move, he hides. There is nobody else in the room, and he’s certain, alternately, that Ash is either dead or coming to save him, or sometimes Eiji needs to save Ash. Nobody else in the room, so fighting isn’t an option. Somebody is trying to kill Eiji though, and running makes him an open target– Sing taught him that. Don’t run. Hold your ground, if it’s ground worth holding. So he hides. Under the bed. He sometimes finds a sneaky enough way to put his thick comforter over the window so nobody can see in. He always locks the door. He’ll stay there until he sees he’s shoved himself into a space too small to hold him, until he can feel the discomfort and cramping in his legs, until he starts to remember his room– his home, until his eyes adjust to the early-dawn light and he realizes what has happened and he gets up and starts to get ready for the day. 

He has to thank Yuki for diverting the natural course of that river. 

Tonight, he goes to bed– taking a sleeping aid with him because after hearing that Ash’s birthday was right around the time he got shot, just a day before Eiji was kidnapped by Yut-Lung, less than a week before he’d have to shoot Shorter in the back to save three lives… he doesn’t think he could fall asleep easy. 

Of course, falling asleep is hardly the main issue.

His dreams do not ease him into it tonight. They attack like soldiers, raining bullets and bayonets and even combat knives. He’s being tied to four bedposts, and they all run in different directions and his limbs scream and his joints creak and his muscles stretch and his bones crack. Golzine is there, breath hot and heavy on Eiji’s neck, body greasy and greedy. No noise Eiji makes reaches his own ears, but they reach Golzine's, and a thousand other faceless men– and they’re all men– and they don’t have faces because they don’t have souls– how could anyone with a soul do something like that to someone so small– Ash couldn’t even defend himself– never had a chance– suffocating under guilt and grief and a thousand greasy bodies– 

Arms are holding him, tightly. Panic sets in. Eiji can’t scream anymore. His body wants to fight but his mind holds on to slivers of rational memory: Shorter held him like this while they were both kidnapped by Yut-Lung, taken to Golzine, sold like livestock. Shorter held him this close that whole time, protective. Shorter is– Shorter had been a source of strength, a rock in a storm, a blanket with which to cover a window. But Shorter is dead. So who is this. Who else could get this close. Who.

When Eiji opens his eyes, Ash is already talking, like they’ve been talking for hours, eyes hazy and tone rapid. “– **you’re alright, you’re okay, Eiji, Eiji, you’re okay, Eiji, can you hear me? Are you okay? Shh, sshhhh, you’re alright. You’re safe Eiji, don’t worry, I’ve got you, you’re okay** –”

“ **Ash** ?”

He looks tired, dark circles under his eyes are accessorized by a bruise blooming on his jaw. The bruise wasn’t there at dinner. Eiji feels like he’s done this before. Tight arms loosen their hold on him, but don’t let go. Eiji can smell sweat, even though his room is chilly in the end of summer. They’ve been here for a while. Eiji feels his body sag as Ash lifts him up and deposits him in bed. He retrieves the blanket Eiji at some point put on the window and tucks it around him.

“How did you get in?” Eiji asks. He may have asked before. He doesn’t remember. He remembers not knowing. 

Ash smirks, but he looks exhausted. “I picked the lock.”

Something like instinct wakes Yuki up at fuck-this o’clock in the morning. She doesn’t have to be at school for another five hours, she isn’t usually awake for another three or four. She does have to pee though, so to the bathroom it is, even if she dreads walking past Eiji’s room at night lately. His door is blessedly open: either it was a good night or Ash made it so, and she does what she needs to before intending to get some early-morning gaming in to start the day off right. But, weirdly enough Ash’s door is open too. Just as much as Eiji likes his door wide open, Ash likes his shut tight. They’re funny like that– and they’ll need to figure it out when they get married, eventually– but for now, Yuki will just shut the door Ash must have been too tired to remember and she’ll go right back under her covers.

It’s only when she’s stuck her head in to try and glimpse a sleeping Ash that she hears it: a quiet babble of nonsense syllables coming from the corner just beyond the bed. Apparently, Eiji isn’t the only one having issues sleeping tonight. Yuki can’t understand a lot of English yet, just basics she’s learned in class, so most of it is useless jargon to her, but she can understand a few words, so she listens. 

_“–_ ** _and_** **you [** ** _know]_** _,_ **it isn’t like** _[_ ** _my dad]_** **and I were never close, it was just, [** ** _after]_** **that [** ** _man]_** **raped me** _[_ ** _my dad]_** **could never really [** ** _look]_** **at me again** – _”_

She tells herself it’s for practice.

_“–_ **really, I should have just [** ** _gone]_** **along with it. I should have let them do whatever they [** ** _wanted]_** **to me. Then maybe [** ** _my dad]_** **wouldn’t have [** ** _hated]_** **me. He would have [** ** _hated]_** **me anyway. I should have killed them all. I should have cut their dicks off and [** ** _made them eat]_** **one, for once–** _”_

She tells herself curiosity killed the cat.

_“– [_ ** _I killed my best friend.]_** **Griff deserves better. Max deserves better. [** ** _Shorter]_** **deserves better. Sing deserves better. Skipper deserves better.** _[_ ** _Eiji]_** **deserves better–** _”_

“What does that mean  **“** **_deserves better”_ ** ?” Yuki asks, and Ash startles out of his skin. She didn’t know Ash got spooked like that. 

For a second, it looks like Ash will stoicize himself and she’ll never hear of this again. Then he lets out one sobbing breath and he gets up and he stands next to her and he puts a hand on her head and he tells her to go back to bed. She doesn’t ask if he’s okay so that he doesn’t have to lie. 

She tells herself she’s going to learn English so fucking fast. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation note:  
> I hope it was clear enough that in the section where Yuki is hearing Ash ramble, all of his words are in English, but the ones /italicized/ and [bracketed] were the words she could understand with her very loose grasp on English, as it was taught to her in school thus far. 
> 
> alright guys a few things:  
> first, I have two apologies. 1) this chapter is short :( for thematic reasons I broke it up this way so i'm sorry y'all get a short chapter, but next time we get a longer chapter next time-- a happier chapter!! 2) i CANNOT APOLOGIZE ENOUGH for posting this a day late-- my computer would not connect to ao3 at all yesterday??? I'm sorry ;~;
> 
> I will not apologize for the angst in this frankly UPSETTING chapter though. :,D we are sobbing TOGETHER, friends.   
> also, i'm nearing the end of the chapters I have prewritten OwO so... uh.... let's hope I get time to continue writing this faster pretty soon, or i will run out of chapters heheheheh oops (don't worry, I won't stop the story I'm too emotionally invested now)
> 
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!!


	12. Known in Another Capacity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context \/\/\/
> 
> Eiji: what the fuck is a friend all we know in this household is social isolation unhealthy coping mechanism wanting to die and being gay  
> Eiji: oh that's what friendship is *about*?? oh alright I can roll w this
> 
> Momma Junko: Ash how r u  
> Ash, externally: we aight  
> Ash, internally: *unintelligible screaming*
> 
> Eiji and Ash, at the same time: I WOULD LIKE TO HOLD UR HAND P L E A S E

Ash has a dinner rush shift with Touya tonight, so when some classmates ask Eiji if he wants to go to dinner with them, he says yes. The whole family has been telling him to try hanging out with his classmates more (make friends, Mom says, stop being a shut in, Yuki says, get yourself some friends or I will show up to your classroom and do it for you, Ash says– and they’re hypocrites, every one of them). He texts Mom, and she says have fun.

He goes with Honda Mitsuki, Sato Haru, and Tanaka Yuuto to a McDonalds down the road. The group orders and sits down with their food, and Eiji lets the others do most of the talking. They seem to know each other pretty well. He wonders why they brought him along. Maybe they wanted to ask him for help on some homework– since Eiji can say he’s been getting good grades– but he doesn’t remember them doing especially poorly in exams. Maybe they need a favor of him, but there’s no way they can know any sort of skill Eiji would be good at.

“What do you think, Okumura?” Tanaka demands, fire in his eyes. Eiji has lost track of the conversation. His confused noise elicits a clarifying response: “Of the new Cereal Killers in Love movie? The one that came out last month?”

Last month. Eiji was going to cram school last month, and trying to settle back into his home. He hadn’t gone to the movies. Hasn’t gone since before he went to America. He can’t remember the last time he went to a movie theater. “I haven’t seen that one,” he admits genially.

Honda grins. “See,” she exclaims, “It’s gotta be awful. Nobody else has even seen it.”

“You saw it, and Haru saw it,” Tanaka retorts.

“Because you dragged us!” Honda cries. “It was the worst two hours of my life.”

“Haru,” Tanaka begs, “back me up here. It wasn’t that bad, right?”

“The premise is that it’s illegal to eat cereal,” Sato deadpans, “It was a bad movie.”

Tanaka whirls on Eiji, “Come on, come see it with me, Okumura, I promise it’s not as bad as they’re saying!”

“Don’t you dare drag Okumura into this,” Honda snaps. 

The three friends talk around Eiji for something like half an hour, occasionally directly including him in the conversation. He’s not sure why he’s here. These people don’t need anything from him. They don’t seem to have a goal. They’re just. Sitting. Talking. Eating. He can hardly handle so much domesticity. Even home isn’t this jovial, this carefree. Then again, these people don’t know him. 

Eventually, when the food has been eaten and they are lounging like happy cats after cream, sipping their sodas (except Honda has tea, she hates carbonated drinks, apparently), Sato looks Eiji dead in the eyes across the table and smirks. “Who’s the lucky girl?” he asks.

“Eh!?” Eiji jumps out of his thoughts.

“Oh, don’t try and argue,” Honda sings, “Haru has an eye for this kind of thing. If he says there’s a girl, there’s a girl. He introduced me and Yuuto, actually.”

For a minute, Eiji twiddles his thumbs, thinking that maybe they’ll give up if he takes long enough to answer. “There, um, isn’t a  _ girl _ ,” he eventually murmurs.

“But there is  _ somebody _ ,” Tanaka presses with a wink.

“A boy–”

Honda squeals excitedly, “Oh, Haru’s got’em alright. Those eyes never fail!”

Sato glances at her, and she understands that it means ‘shut up or this kid will never open his mouth’ and he glances back at Eiji, and he understands that it means ‘ok go ahead and continue.’ “Um, I met him in America–” 

“Ohmygoodness, you’re dating a  _ foreigner _ !? How fun!” Honda cries, “What was America like?”

Eiji doesn’t know how to answer this satisfactorily. To be honest, America was awful. The only good thing that happened there was meeting Ash. Most of it was getting hurt or kidnapped, Ash getting hurt or kidnapped, fighting for his life, or watching friends die. Sometimes a few of those at once. Those are not exactly things you tell people on a first meeting. “Exciting,” he eventually says, “always something going on.”

“So what about this man then? What’s he like?” Tanaka presses.

How to describe Ash? “Well, he’s kinda like… hmm… for starters, he’s the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

“So you like muscular guys?”

“No, he’s not really muscular, exactly– in fact, he’s too thin right now, we’re trying to get him to eat more– but he’s got a strong spirit. He always manages to make it through whatever life throws at him, and he saves me a lot more often than I’d like to admit. But he used to be more muscular, before– but anyway, he’s got these gorgeous green eyes, and his hands are so soft, but they’ve got calluses, which is weird. That’s weird, right? He works at a little restaurant down the road from our house now, and he can cook really well. He can do almost anything really well, he’s super smart–…” All of a sudden, Eiji realizes he’s been rambling. The others haven’t said a word to stop him. Sato is smirking. Honda and Tanaka both look incredibly endeared. “Sorry,” he mutters. For the first time in a while, his ears turn an embarrassing shade of pink. He hasn’t had time or important enough reason to feel embarrassed in a long time. Nobody says anything. They seem to be waiting for something from him. He can’t discern what it is. He does have to ask though: “I don’t mean to be rude, you’re all very fun people and I’m having a good time, but why did you invite me tonight?”

Honda exchanges a look with Tanaka, who exchanges a look with Sato, who exchanges a look with Honda. This was, apparently, what they were waiting for.

“You always look so tense and isolated in class,” Tanaka admits, “you didn’t look like you had any friends.”

“Both of these two dumbass datemates adopt introverts like stray cats,” Sato snickers, “that’s why I introduced them.”

“Also because we loved each other,” Tanaka clarifies.

Sato nods, “Also that, yeah.”

“We just wanted to get to know you better, Okumura,” Honda smiles, and Eiji feels a warm pit of ice melt a little in his tummy. 

Eiji hasn’t felt this way since he was staring at a 17-year-old gang boss in a bar in New York: a connection. Sparking friendship like flint in a tinderbox.

“So, have you made a move with this man yet?” Sato inquires, as if it’s the most serious, life-and-death business in the world.

Eiji startles. What does that mean, as far as he and Ash go? They’ve made out, on a technicality of transferring information– which doesn’t make it less than the most exciting, wonderful twenty-three seconds of Eiji’s life, but it does probably mean that it doesn’t count to Ash. They’ve slept in the same bed all sorts of times, but not in a very sexual, or even romantic way. How do you measure a “move” in such a complicated relationship? “I’m not sure,” he ultimately admits. 

“You said you live together, right?” Honda clarifies, “So is your family his host family?” Eiji nods. “So you probably know all sorts of stuff just by being around him all the time! You know what he likes and stuff, why not ask him on a date?” Her eyes practically sparkle with the idea. Tanaka nods sagely, as if his girlfriend’s proposal is an advantageous war strategy.

Considering this, and altogether uncomfortable being the center of attention for so long, Eiji redirects the conversation. “What do you two usually do on dates?”

“Oh!” Tanaka exclaims, “Well, on our  _ first _ date–…”

Sato snickers next to Eiji as the lovers drabble on about their many, many successful (and even more horribly failed) dates. 

Junko can tell Ash is anxious about how late Eiji is coming home. Not that he has a reason to be, and Ash knows this, but he’s still pacing.

“ **Alright, Ash?** ” she inquires, in English. Since last week, Yuki has really thrown herself at the language with a fervor, and she comes home and asks her dear old mom to help when her brothers aren’t available. Needless to say, Junko is starting to pick it up by osmosis. 

“Hm?” Ash mutters, before throwing himself into an armchair in the living room and bouncing his leg, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” as if that was even slightly convincing. 

She plops down on the couch next to the chair. “Ash, you look like you’re going to crawl out of your own skin.”

“What?” Ash snaps anxiously.

“Separation anxiety is common for couples who have been through traumatic events together,” Junko intones– it’s a fact she learned from a new book she’s reading. 

“I’m fine, Ma,” Ash says with a laugh so well-performed that she almost doesn’t catch that it was fake, “don’t worry about me so much.”

Junko offers her own hyper-dramatic sigh. “It is a mother’s curse to worry endlessly over her children– blood-related or not.”

Ash smiles at his fingertips where they rest in his lap. 

“Let’s play a game!” Junko suggests, immediately turning to rummage through the various board games she and Tomoya had accumulated when the kids were young enough to appreciate them, and then left to lay in the cupboard next to the TV when the kids were old enough to forget them. Checkers and Go, Shogi and Chutes and Ladders– and the ultimate game, universal enough for anyone to appreciate. “How about this one?” she suggests, setting it on the coffee table. 

Ash’s eyes remained dubious– and even Junko couldn’t have guessed that he hadn’t played a board game since before his brother went to war and before he was raped and sold like livestock– until they landed on the packaging and absolutely lit up. 

“Jenga! I haven’t played that game in years!” 

The pieces are painstakingly set up and they get good progress into the game– enough progress that the tower is looking skeletal and wobbly by the time Yuki emerges from her cave for a glass of water, only to see their game and worm her way into the couch cushions to spectate– enough progress that the tower is unstable and topples when Eiji opens the door with a boisterous “I’m  _ hoooome _ !”

“Welcome back,” Ash calls.

“How was your time with your new friends?” Junko coaxes.

“Nii-chan, you toppled the Jenga tower, you dumbass!” Yuki cries.

Eiji, whose eyes are bright from good companionship, grins even wider for no reason and apologizes. “Can I be forgiven by offering my skills for the next game?”

Yuki looks dubious, but assents by saying “Yeah, but I’m still gonna kick your ass.”

“Language, Yuki,” Junko chides idly.

Junko wins the next game, which all the children are surprised at. They play three more games, won by Yuki twice and then Eiji, before they retire for bed. Junko gets in a few more chapters of that book, between intermittent texts to Tomoya, before she falls asleep.

“Ash, would you like to go on a date,” Eiji repeats. Then, in a more casual tone, “Hey, Ash, wanna go on a date… with me…” Nothing feels right, even as he stands, muttering under his breath outside Ash’s door. His new friends had egged him on via text. They’d told him there was no way his feelings weren’t returned. They’d reassured him that it can’t hurt to ask. Eiji is certain he’s overthinking all of this. Probably. So, before he could think to keep overthinking it, he knocks on Ash’s door. 

Ash answers it, yawning, dressed in baggy pajamas that did their best to convince you Ash was a perfectly normal weight (he is, mostly, now, but Eiji would still be more comfortable if he had some more body fat). “Oh, Eiji, what’s up?” he asks through the yawn, before switching to English to ask “ **Can’t sleep?”**

Shaking his head, Eiji replies, stammering over his words, “U-uh, no, no. I’m good. Not, uh, not tonight. It’s, um,” Eiji could feel his whole face from his neck to his scalp growing hot and pink with every syllable, so he finally threw all caution to the wind and spit out, “Do you want to go on a date with me!?”

Three seconds later, when Ash was still staring at him, Eiji realized he’d spoken much louder than he’d intended, practically yelled. Yuki can be heard snickering from her room down the hall. 

But, more important than inevitable teasing, is Ash still hasn’t answered. He’s just staring, searching Eiji’s face like he can’t understand what’s being asked of him. 

“We–” Ash starts, before muttering something to himself and trying again twice more. Finally, when the cold pit in Eiji’s stomach has grown to fit a refrigerated elephant, Ash replies with another question in response: “We’ve never been on a date?”

And Eiji is just floored. “No?” he replies, “I don’t think so?”

And Ash is trying to think back, muttering to himself in English. “ **There was that time, no that was a kidnapping. Or what about? No, prison. But that time when–? Another kidnapping– Eiji, holy shit, we’ve never been on a date!”**

**_“I know! That’s why I asked you out!”_ **

**_“Then, yes, let’s go on a date!”_ **

**_“You are pretty dumb for a smart person, Ash.”_ **

**_“Hey, I was pretty preoccupied keeping us both alive at the time.”_ **

**_“Alright, fair.”_ **

And Eiji cleared his throat to try again. “Ash,” he began, going pink all over again, “w-w-will you go on a date with me?”

“Sure,” Ash answered, smiling and not quite looking Eiji in the eyes. 

And then Eiji ran off to bed, looking like an escaping forest creature in the face of the blaze of a fire, and threw himself in bed and hid under the covers and felt the time change as the butterflies in his stomach were replaced with the warm emptiness of sleep. 

As an added bonus, probably resulting from a year’s worth of undeserved bad karma, Eiji did not have nightmares that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeyoooooo I'm not only on time today, I also bring u this chapter at a reasonable hour containing daylight and (most people's) consciousness! OuO  
> here is a happy chapter (for once hehehe) to hopefully brighten ur day amidst potentially unhappy times. is anyone who reads this actually quarantined/contagious/immuno-deficient/unable or unlikely to leave ur house for other reasons? lemme know in comments I may do somn special for y'all for those ppl bc I feel sympathy.  
> i hope u enjoyedddd
> 
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!


	13. Sunshine and Angel and Their Shitty, Shitty Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context \/\/\/
> 
> Yuki: haha u guys are GAY  
> Eiji and Ash: yea??? we're going on a date???? that's the point?????  
> Mama Junko: and yuki, honey, u live in a GLASS house
> 
> Eiji: time for a nice, peaceful date  
> local florida man: hello. it me. wanna see me jump off this building.  
> Eiji, spraying raid and sprinting away: AHHHHHHHH
> 
> Ash: i sure do love visiting hooters. really brings me back to my childhood.  
> Waitress: u need therapy.   
> Ash: can i order one therapy please?  
> Waitress: this is a cafe.  
> Ash: OnO  
> Waitress: ............. we have stickers. u want stickers??  
> Ash: OwO  
> Eiji: babe please don't make those faces ever again

Ash tries not to be nervous as he dresses for his date with Eiji. He’s been on dates before, he’s sure. Probably. He can’t remember one he went on  _ willingly _ , but that’s fine. He’s fine. This date is going to be  _ fine _ . Fine. 

Eiji had said their destination today was to be a surprise. Ash obsesses for an hour over whether he’s overdressed, underdressed, or if his outfit even matches at all. He should just crawl back into bed. Tell Eiji he’s sick. Eiji won’t be mad. He’ll be disappointed, but not mad. But that would make Eiji sad, probably. Well, that won’t do. He’ll just have to go on the date– dressed or not. 

So he stands awkwardly in the living room while Ma makes patronizing small talk like she has no clue what day it is. 

“Oh, you look nice,” she comments approvingly, “where are you going today? I thought you had today off from Touya’s.”

“I do,” he replies simply. 

Ash feels her smile more than sees it. “Well, you and Eiji have fun– I’ve told Yuki not to tease you two today.”

The butterflies in Ash’s stomach– goddammit why were the songs all right about the  _ butterflies _ , of all things– flare up for a moment in affectionate warmth. “Thanks, Ma,” he mutters. 

Eiji emerges from his room and creeps down the stairs, probably totally unaware of the fact that he’s gorgeous and he’s dressed like he knows the sun shines for him and his smile is wide and excited and it’s every single atom of what Ash has ever even dared to want. He takes Ash’s hand with false confidence that Ash makes sure to return, even if only so Eiji won’t let go. 

Before they head out, Yuki makes a tentative appearance at the top of the stairs, her gaming headphones still slung around her neck after staying up all night playing, and carefully enunciates in English, “ **Have fun on your date!** _ ” _

They both laugh. Ash replies “ **Thank you, little sister.** ” 

Eiji has a  _ plan _ . 

He’s plotted their movements today meticulously. It’s their first date! It has to go perfectly. First, the aquarium– a classic date spot. That, and Ash has never  _ seen _ a  _ penguin _ in  _ person _ before.  _ Ever _ . Which is just sad, and needs to be rectified immediately. Then, a late lunch at the cute cafe branching off the aquarium gift shop (Eiji does plan to buy Ash a stuffed animal, which one will be for Ash to decide). Finally, after lunch, the nearby park, where they’ll watch the sunset. Who doesn’t love sunset– even if the most vivid sunset memory Eiji is currently in possession of is the one where Ash told him of that snow leopard, a memory that still chills his spine. Eiji has decided to distinctly avoid the route to the park that crosses next to the library, because he can’t shake a bad feeling about Ash and libraries. It’s all planned. Eiji will make sure Ash has just one day that goes right. No near-death experiences, no fear, no stress, no responsibility. For once, Eiji will shoulder the thinking part of things, and Ash can just follow, freely. 

(It’s exciting, and it’s scary. Eiji’s smile wobbles as they step onto the train from the platform, uncertain. What if Ash gets bored? Or overwhelmed? What if Eiji did it wrong? What if Ash decides he’d rather not try dating? What if he gives Eiji awkward, pitying looks and can’t make eye contact?)

Neither of them talks much on the train, faces too flushed with the best anxiety one can get, fingers interlaced and both of them hoping that they’ll stay that way for a long time. When they get off the train, it’s a short walk to the aquarium. Unused to walking with their hands linked, knuckles bump awkwardly against thighs as Ash and Eiji try to figure out how to move forward thus encumbered. Both of them would rather walk with that strange, bumbling gait than as separate humans, unconnected.

A crowd surrounds the aquarium, but not the usual kind. People with frowns, not from waiting in long lines or paying unseemly ticket prices, but from a greater tragedy. Ash grew up around faces like these, so he knows they’re not normal for a place like an aquarium. Eiji can pick them out easily too, after the last year. So they approach the front of the tangle of people and reporters with careful steps and deaf ears and white-knuckle grips on each other’s hands. 

_ “– where we are receiving reports that one of the employees of Manatee Aquarium jumped from the roof early this morning, ending his own life, and leaving behind–” _

“Eiji,” Ash whispers, far below the din of the crowd, and totally unaware that he’s said it before, “I’m afraid of heights.”

Whiplash crackles in Eiji’s brain, and he remembers that blood-soaked, fear-riddled, horrible, horrible night, and he remembers  _ if it’s you I can die happy _ and he remembers  _ locked the windows _ and he remembers the first of seventeen bullets spent on the single word: Escape.

“Eiji? Eiji, it’s alright,” and, in jarring English, “ **shit, shit, shit** ,” and, in careful, anxiety-stilted Japanese, “Over there. Somewhere else. Um, let’s go somewhere else.”

Nodding blankly, unaware of exactly how bad he’d been set off, Eiji feels his head clear, marginally, once the cacophony and clutter of the crowd has been left behind. 

“You alright,  **sunshine** ?”

Eiji blinks, hard. “ **Sunshine** ?” 

“ **Sunshine, light of my life, the last rays of sunset before dark, and the first rays of dawn after the night,** yes, you are my  **sunshine** .”

For half a second, Eiji wonders how Ash can say that without being the least embarrassed, but then Ash’s expression shifts, very subtly, and Eiji can see that the bright-red that’s dyed his ears is leaking into the rest of his face.. He, of all people, should remember that Ash is just a person, after all. 

So, with an impish grin, Eiji responds, “Of course,  **angel** .” That sends the red to every corner of Ash’s face, and most of his neck too. He keeps it going, just to see him like that, “ **Angel, life-saver, healer in the starry sky, beautiful bringer of blessings** .”

They both crackle and fizz with laughter– and wouldn’t it be horrible if they had still been near that crime scene?– until they’re not so afraid of what they know anymore. Emotionally, they can’t afford too many thoughts for the man who caused the scene. They can only hope in passing that he’s doing better wherever he is now. “Are you alright,  **sunshine** ?” Ash asks.

Eiji nods, “I’m okay now,  **angel** , that just freaked me out. That poor man. I kept thinking–…”

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t really. Sorry, Ash.”

“I don’t want to either.” 

So they don’t talk about it. They let the feelings wash over them on a park bench where Eiji had planned to watch the sun sink to sleep, and they let them pass and they mold their hands to each other like a brand new being and they understand that they are now and they are safe. 

When he’s ready, and when he’s sure Ash is ready, Eiji bursts out, “Well, there goes my day plans.”

“How about lunch?” Ash suggests, “That restaurant looks cute.” The name is spelled out in cutesy, flowery characters that Ash reads with intentional carefulness. “That character means ‘Sakura,’ right? Me-i-do ki-ssa… Kissa is… oh,  **cafe, right** ? Maid cafe?”

“Only weirdos go to those,” Eiji mutters, although Yuki has been dying to try one near the house, where you can play video games with the maids (why is anyone’s guess, though Mom swears it’s because she “just wants another girl to share in her interests). 

Ash gives him a look so pointed it could tip a pencil, waiting for Eiji to be clued in:  _ look at us,  _ we _ are weird _ . Eiji does not get the point. Ash rolls his eyes and tells him, “We can be their only normal customers all day. Come on, it’ll be like going to  **Hooters** .”

“ **Hooters** ?” 

“Don’t worry about it, it’ll be fun.”

So Eiji follows Ash, feeling a little disheartened about how spectacularly his plan spiraled out of wack, to Sakura Maid Cafe on the other side of the park from the grisly aquarium scene. The front is covered in pink flowers, as the name implies, and the cut-out windows in the cottage-style doors reveal an interior out of a storybook. Patrons are mostly older men by themselves, but there is one family with two young children next to one of the front windows, a group of college-aged girls against the far wall, and in the middle of the dining room a couple, clearly tourists, shares a milkshake, despite the chilly weather. 

A young woman, dark hair dyed purple at the ends, greets them in true Maid Cafe fashion, welcoming them home and pulling out chairs for them at the table. Ash is awestruck by everything from the carefully-crafted costumes to the well-practiced service scripts. Truth be told, it’s a pretty novel concept. Not one Eiji really prefers to frequent, but he can see why it would be so interesting to someone who’s never been to one. 

“Today we’re doing arts and crafts, sirs!” the girl chirps with a customer-service smile, “Would you like to join me in decorating some flowers?” 

Ash’s eyes positively  _ glow _ , like he’s six years old. “ **Eiji** ,” he says in excited, rapid English, “ **we can have a keepsake from our first date** !”

“ **You’re such a kid** ,” Eiji teases, eyes fond, “ **You just want to play with stickers** .”

“ **Maybe so,** ” he turns to the waitress, standing there with her customer-service smile waning confused. “We would love to,” he tells her politely.

“Absolutely, sirs! I’ll return in just a moment.” And she disappears down a hallway, into a backroom. 

Ash beams, knee bouncing under the table. “ **This place is so fun. Can I wear one of those outfits too?** ”

“ **I don’t think you’d want to. They’re kind of… short.”**

**“Are you saying I couldn’t pull it off?”** Ash bats his eyelashes and watches Eiji’s face go absolutely red. Just for the fun of it. Eiji realizes Ash is trying to cheer him up, and even though he’s not sure what about this Maid Cafe has Ash so excited, he grins back at him, because it’s Ash, his ‘angel,’ and Eiji would rather make awkward eye contact with every perverted 40-year-old in the establishment than be somewhere else without Ash. 

Their waitress returns with a cute, sticker-adorned platter neatly organized with three of the cafe’s signature sakura flower outlines, some markers, and a wild assortment of stickers. “Can I get you anything to drink, sirs?” she asks, pulling a notebook and pen out of a pocket in her apron.

“I’ll take a soda,” Eiji says.

“And I’ll have juice,” Ash adds.

“Absolutely, sirs, I’ll get that right out for you!” and she hurries back to the kitchen. 

“ **Three of them?** ” Ash wonders, looking at the flowery cutouts.

“ **The maids sometimes do crafts with the customers** ,” Eiji explains, “ **We can tell her not to, if you want.** ” He doesn’t especially care, but the girl seems nice, and if she’s doing crafts with them she doesn’t have to go handle the guy trying to take pictures with his phone under the table, making weird faces at the maids as they pass. 

“ **I’m fine with it– unless you don’t want to** .”

“ **She seems nice, let’s let her.** ” Eiji can’t stop himself from smiling. 

The maid comes back after several minutes, dropping lots of drinks on lots of tables, the creepy man with the phone included, and her customer-service smile doesn’t drop so much as twitch when the man gives her a salacious look, before she finally reaches them with the final two drinks on her tray. 

“Thanks for waiting, sirs!” she chirps, sliding the tray onto an empty table to be picked up by another maid passing through. “Let’s do some crafts, shall we?”

Ash does  _ not _ need to be asked twice. Eiji is tempted to ask Ash if he’s ever even done crafts before, with how earnestly he begins applying cat stickers and heart stickers and stickers with little random words in English and Japanese (and one in Korean), 

“What’s your name?” Ash asks the maid.

She smiles prettily and replies, “You can call me Usagi-chan.” 

“Like a rabbit,” Ash connects, “That’s a fake name, right?” She nods, giving him a well-rehearsed grin of apology– one that she must have to use hundreds of times in a day to avoid questions like  _ what, you don’t trust me enough to tell me your name? _ But Ash’s head bobs and he notes, “That’s smart. Keeps perverts off your tail better than nothing, right?” To Eiji, he notes, **“I shoulda done that when I was little** .” Usagi-chan looks at Ash a little crookedly now, sizing him up, likely wondering what he meant by that comment.

Instead of responding, Usagi-chan flattens out a cake sticker on her flower and prompts, “Let me know whenever you’re ready to order, sirs. I speak a little English, so if you prefer to speak that way, feel free.”

“ **You speak English?** ” Eiji clarifies.

Usagi-chan nods, “ **Little bit, yes. Also Spanish. They have me serve the customer they think is maybe foreign, because no one else speaks language other than Japanese.** ” 

“I’m still learning Japanese myself,” Ash adds, “I can barely read hiragana.”

Looking surprised, Usagi-chan comments, “Your accent is very slight. You must be a fast learner.”

“I had a great teacher,” Ash insists, looking pointedly at Eiji. Usagi-chan lets a look slip past her customer-service expression that reveals how much of their relationship she can guess at. It’s not an unkind look– much to Eiji’s relief. 

After some more chit-chat and crafts, they eventually order lunch and Usagi-chan returns with it sometime soon after, and they eat and they pay their tab and they linger for a bit, because once you’ve been there for a bit, the surrounding patrons’ stares fade into background noise. It’s a nice date, if entirely unexpected and weird. Then again, it’s Ash and Eiji, so maybe unexpected and weird was always going to be how it ended up. 

Or maybe violence always has to be a variable in their equation, because the man with the cell phone has been caught taking pictures by an unassumingly slight girl with a very calm, very firm demeanor about her. 

“Sir, you’ll have to put your phone away, please.”

“You aren’t allowed to tell me what to do.”

“I’m sorry, sir, it’s policy. You can’t take pictures in here.”

“I’ll report you to the manager.”

“Sir, I am the manager.”

Eiji thinks, naively, in the fantasy that he’s constructed for himself in this cute cafe with the nice waitresses, that this will end the discussion. The man will put his phone away and apologize for making a scene. The other maids will heave a sigh of relief. The other patrons will go back to their meals and their chatter. The truth, of course, is realized seconds later when the man’s face reddens with lividity and he stands to a height that towers and he doesn’t need to be very big to dwarf the manager and she is resolutely not scared– in the way that Ash recognizes as the expression he would wear when he was small and he could not say no.

Eiji barely has time to hiss out, “Ash,” in a worried, warning tone before Ash has stood up and crossed the establishment to place himself squarely next to the manager, his posture ready for defense. Eiji stands, ready to assist, several feet behind. 

“Leave her be,” Ash snaps.

The man with the red face has not yet put away his cell phone. Everyone is staring at him. He thinks that makes him powerful, and he makes a move– to do what will never be known– and Ash doesn’t hesitate to jab with his heel and take the man out at the knees. It’s almost instantaneous, the way he stops attacking and starts falling, and the patrons on the other side of the store, without a clear view of the scene, will think that the man just fell over. 

The man grumbles in pain, but doesn’t want to disgrace his pride any further and (after taking a minute to find his feet again) limps out of the cafe, glowering and embarrassed. Eiji sighs in relief, but still feels the blood pulse in his ears, and he can’t bring himself to believe the scene is over, the danger passed, and both him and Ash unscathed. Any sort of thanks the manager imparts to Ash is lost in the cacophony Eiji’s heartbeat orchestrates a crescendo in his ears. His vision swims without registering Ash coming back to the table, and his body only fuzzily comprehends that Ash maneuvers him to sit back down in his chair. He can’t quite determine above the visceral, immutable buzzing that permeates every sense in bone-deep ways where he is, or why, for several minutes. He barely recognizes Ash, who kneels in front of his chair and holds one of his hands and speaks in hushed tones to Usagi-chan, who brings them a little to-go bag and waves them off with kind words that Eiji can’t hear very well. 

“ **Eiji, sunshine,** ” Eiji hears those words with barely-distinguishable clarity, like part of him recognizes that the words are important and the other part is still scared and hiding, **“can you stand up? I know I’ve put on some weight, but I still can’t carry you.** ” 

He hears this, and a few other familiar-sounding English words–  **alright. safe. walking. Ma. worried. sorry. sorry. I’m sorry.–** while he operates in the same way that a breeze disturbs a grass field. They’re on the train ride home before he realizes where he is.

“Ash?” is the first word that comes out of his mouth, expelled with the force of half an hour’s worth of unwilling silence. It sounds a little more desperate than Eiji would have liked it to, especially considering he barely remembers what’s going on.

In equally desperate measure, Ash turns from the window he’d been staring out to look Eiji up and down thoroughly, scanning for anything physically wrong, anything he can fix. “Eiji,” he speaks slowly, still unsure of how lucid Eiji is, “are you okay?”

“I’m… I think I’m alright.” He remembers a man with a red face and Ash’s back to him, resolute and stronger than he should have to be. “Are you okay?” he returns, and now he takes the time to break his eyes from Ash’s and examine his arms, legs, torso, brow. Anything that could indicate Ash isn’t just putting up a brave front, anything that indicates he needs help. 

But there’s nothing. Ash is fine. It’s just Eiji collapsing in on himself, horrified by even whispers of what could have been. 

“ **No, no, don’t cry Eiji,** ” Ash murmurs, and Eiji wipes furiously at his face, the rough material on the cuffs of his sweater rubbing his eyelids raw. Tears keep falling with uncontrollable constancy, like leaves from an autumn tree or flower petals in the spring, and Eiji scrubs them away, ashamed and frustrated. Why didn’t he step forward? Why didn’t he move to defend that manager? Why is he the one panicking? Why can’t he be strong? Like Ash? Immovable and constant and powerful in ways Eiji could never be if he tried. Cold fingertips wrap around Eiji’s wrists, delicate but certain. Once Eiji’s hands are resting in his lap, one of Ash’s keeps them company, while the other collects the tears from Eiji’s cheeks with the tenderness of a stargazer drawing the constellations he adores. “ **That man** ,” Ash continues, his vocal cords defaulting to English, since it’s just Eiji, “ **he looked a little like Golzine. I was really scared too.** ” The admission takes every bit of emotion Eiji had to hold up his spine and moves it all to his ribcage, and Eiji collapses into Ash and breathes it all out. 

“ **Ash, I kept thinking– what if he– what if he–?** ” Eiji’s voice can’t keep up with the words his brain is spilling over with, “ **He was so much bigger than you, or her, and what if he–?** ” Eiji knows he doesn’t need to finish the sentence for Ash to know his fear, because they have the same fear. Some part of Eiji knows that, had Ash not had ten years of practice in disguising his fear as malice, Ash would have trembled in the face of that man. But the only thing his mind can process during this train ride is the relief that Ash is alright. Even if Eiji didn’t do anything more than stand behind him as a partner and a fortitude, Ash is alright, and Eiji is alright, and neither of them needs to be scared anymore of these things that people do when they think they can. 

Holding Eiji very close, and now that Eiji is pressed up against him he can feel him shivering in the warm body-heated train, Ash whispers, “ **We’re okay, Eiji. I think we’re okay.** ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha did I say just fluff?? OuO" u know who i am there's gotta be a little angst in everything to make the fluff really stand out ya know? anyway i hope u enjoyed this longer and kinda happier chapter today!!! i know i loved writing this one w all my fucking soul 0///0
> 
> Also! I've got a blog now! Find me here [[https://www.tumblr.com/blog/bmgh-writing]] on Tumblr and here [[https://bmghwrites.wordpress.com/]] on Wordpress-- my goal is to make it to 100 followers between both platforms, and then I'm going to open up a Patreon with some cool rewards so I can support myself without going to work at my current job (which I hate, bc the managers are all dicks). If you wanna support me, go ahead and give me a quick follow! I'll be posting about my real life, my writing process, and some writing tips-- as well as any requested topics! Hope to see some of you there! :DDD
> 
> As always,   
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!!!
> 
> (I hope everyone is happy, healthy, and staying inside!!)


	14. Maybe, People Can Be Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context \/\/\/
> 
> Eiji: i suck  
> Ash, ready to beat him over the head with a slice of cake: NO U R NOT
> 
> Yuki, standing in Ash's doorway at 3 am, holding up her English homework: can u help me w my homework  
> Ash, in the middle of a panic attack: O-O  
> Yuki: 0_0  
> Ash: O-O  
> Yuki: it's due today...   
> Ash: u couldn't have told me when the sun was still in the sky???

On the walk home from the train station, Eiji gives up a bitter laugh. “We’re terrible at dating,” he concedes, like a piece of sea glass worn down by a relentless tide. 

Mildly offended, Ash’s steps falter until he’s standing like a lamp post in the middle of the sidewalk. They’re not bad at dating, just…  _ new _ . The only dates Ash has been on were without his consent, and mostly political in nature (from his point of view). If Ash’s guess is correct, Eiji has never been on a date. Furiously trying to convince himself that his inexperience does not preclude his attempt, Ash bites “No, we’re not.”

Uncrossing his arms for the sole purpose of throwing them in the air in a gesture of exasperation, Eiji’s brow furrows in consternation. “We both nearly broke down at the aquarium and I  _ did _ break down at the cafe.”

“To be fair, there was a dead body in one place and I fought a guy at the other place.”

“My point proven,” Eiji snips, uncharacteristically unforgiving of his circumstances.

“ **No, it’s not!** ” Ash cries, his English resurging with his vehemence before mellowing back out into Eiji’s native language, “The dead body we literally could not do anything about, and the cafe incident was just chance.”

Ever-expressive, Eiji’s arms pull back in to hug around his torso, and Ash can read, as clear as the fading sunlight, how much of this argument is borne of fear. “Why did you stand up to that man?” he demands in a choked-off whisper. He already knows the answer, so he doesn’t wait for Ash to say it. “It’s our first date and already it’s marked by such scary things–” he hesitates only for a moment before letting himself finish the thought, “Ash, this date was horrible.”

Before replying, Ash rummages through the to-go bag he’d gotten from Usagi-chan and pulls out an envelope. The broken seal reveals that Ash already read it while Eiji was somewhere else, on the train, but he hands it to Eiji for him to read now. He’s read it four times, struggling through the careful hiragana they’d spelled out for his benefit. It’s the first letter he’s ever received. He could recite it to Eiji, if Eiji refused to read it, but Eiji does read it and Ash just gets to watch the belligerent anxiety drain from his expression as he absorbs the words. 

_ Dear friends, _

_ Thank you for standing up for us when no one else did. This sort of thing happens all the time, and nobody has ever done anything like what you did today. Everybody here thanks you from our hearts. You two were our superheroes today! Please come in any time you’d like, we can’t wait to see you again to give more proper thanks. _

_ -Usagi-chan, Neko-chan, Kuma-chan, Inu-chan, Ahiru-chan, Tori-chan, Nezumi-chan, and Sakura-chan _

The to-go bag includes a free dessert, the sticker-adorned flowers he and Eiji had made with Usagi-chan, and a handwritten coupon for a free meal. Eiji had been too out of it to see it, so Ash doubts he remembers, but he had seen with conscious clarity how quickly the father, out to lunch with his wife and kids, had stood up and shielded his children from the scene. He had seen the young woman and her friends, meeting up for a fun time after their university classes ended, all rise and run over to the manager to see if she was alright. He had seen the two foreigners frantically show Ash their phone, with a translation app they had typed their query into to ask him  _ Do we need police? _ Ash had seen the good people rise out of the woodwork the moment he and Eiji had stood up, and it filled his soul with something quiet and comfortable, something that made the terrified child hiding in his brain with a gun held out, point-blank, lower the weapon and consider that, maybe, some people are  _ good _ . 

But Eiji has been where Ash has been for a year, and he needs to be convinced too. Needs to be convinced that people can be good, that he can be good to people, can help. As one so inexperienced in this area, Ash doesn’t know what else to do other than show him the letter and hold him close when he starts to cry. 

“Other than the parts with the dead guy and the creepy guy, did you have fun today?” Ash asks evenly, doing his best not to sway Eiji either way. Let him come to his conclusion, whichever one he wants.

Eiji sniffs, coughs out a laugh, “Well, I mean, it was kind of uncomfortable in the cafe because of all those creepy guys. And I did have a breakdown, so not really.” Ash is glad that Eiji’s face is tucked into the side of his neck so that he can’t see how fast Ash’s expression falls. However, Eiji isn’t done, “But, Ash, I could weather it because I was with you. And I’d rather spend a hundred awful dates with you than a thousand good ones with someone else, because even in these awful circumstances I’m happier with you.”

Arms squeezing Eiji even tighter, uncontrollable even though he’s sure Eiji must be uncomfortable with it, Ash’s heart sings. “Then do you want to try another date with me?”

Underneath everything, Eiji has the gall to smile, “Only if you admit that I was right and we suck at this.”

“I refuse,” Ash replies. 

When they get home, they trade their paper flowers and Eiji tapes Ash’s to the corner of his desk and Ash tapes Eiji’s to the ceiling above his bed. (They share the dessert with Ma and Yuki, and absolutely do not tell them about how disastrously the date actually went.)

“Hey, Ash, can you help me with my English homework?” Yuki asks, on a bad, bad night. The words are swimming in front of her eyes, nonsense characters, because she can’t focus on them when she knows– she doesn’t have any empirical measurement, can’t hear it or see it or feel it, but she  _ knows _ – that Eiji is only resting now after hours of tortured silence, hiding under his bed from monsters that are much less imaginary the more Yuki thinks about them. 

With eyes that draw themselves to look up from the floor at Yuki with a nails-on-chalkboard screech, absolutely hollow and full of sincerity anyways, Ash nods. It’s an interesting phenomenon how her video games, no matter how realistic, can never capture the way a person will try to bury their feelings and they only fail because  _ you _ know them. But Ash is trying to shake this bad, bad night off. “Is it verbs again?” his voice is a copy of a laugh from another time, maybe earlier this evening when Mom asked him– in her saccharine way– why he wouldn’t eat his carrots. He tries to draw it out, like if he keeps running with it, maybe it’ll get funnier along the way, “I’ll be honest, Yuki, English is a bastard language with very little sense.” 

Yuki’s never been great at pretending, so she doesn’t laugh. Ash doesn’t want to laugh, and she won’t make him, but she will drag him out of the corner of his room to  _ make  _ him  _ make  _ the words from his native language  _ make  _ sense to her. She hands him the worksheet and then slaps the lightswitch so he doesn’t have to squint in the dark. 

His Japanese reading is slow, “ _ Tegami o yonde–  _ **read the letter, right?** ” and he’s getting nowhere, so Yuki snatches it out of his hands and reads it to him.

“Read the letter from Mike, answer the questions on the back, and write a response. At least 5 sentences. It’s due tomorrow.”

“You waited until the night before?” Ash chides, but if he’s present enough to scold her study habits it’s enough presence for her to breathe more soundly and unclench her jaw. 

Puffing up her cheeks in a pout, Yuki mutters, “You’re not even in school, you can’t make fun of me.”

And Ash smiles a smile that just barely isn’t sad and says, “No, I’m not, just thinking about how different you and Eiji are.”

“Of course we’re different:  _ I _ didn’t run around in America and die a bunch last year–” Shit, that’s not what she wanted to say. That wasn’t a nice thing to say. Mom’s always telling Yuki to think before she speaks, and Yuki really should start taking that advice one day ( _ maybe she’d have more friends that way _ , she thinks), because now she’s really gone and mentioned the one thing she wanted to avoid on this bad, bad night. “– and I don’t have a blond boyfriend,” she adds, hastily. If she can make this a joke then maybe it won’t hurt so bad. Ash doesn’t respond. His face doesn’t change from that glitched smile, but she knows it probably should have. Unlike her pausable and freezable games, people are dynamic. She clears her throat and hands the assignment back to Ash. 

Without really registering a response for himself, Ash looks down at the paper, squints, reaches for some reading glasses on his nightstand, and reads more easily with them on. 

**“Dear Friend,**

**Monday afternoon, I went to the aquarium with my friend Jack. Jack ate a sandwich for lunch and I ate chicken. On Tuesday morning I went to school early to do my homework in the classroom. On Tuesday afternoon I went home and did my chores. My chores are sweeping the stairs, taking out the trash, and washing the dishes. Mary is my sister. Mary’s chores are feeding the dogs, dusting the furniture, and vacuuming the carpet. On Wednesday I practiced with my violin after school. On Thursday I took a test in my Japanese class. I did not have school on Friday, because it was a holiday. I was sad, but my friends and I walked to the park in the afternoon. How are you doing? What did you do this week?**

**Sincerely,**

**Mike”**

Ash isn’t smiling anymore when he’s finished reading. It’s only force of will that’s keeping the tears inside his eyes. Part of Yuki, the part that’s still scared of what happened, what is happening, to her brothers, doesn’t want to ask him what’s wrong. That part of her wants to let his tears slide past in ignorance. Don’t think about it, don’t let it bother you, it’s not your business, they can handle it on their own. Except the other part of Yuki knows they can’t, sees them struggling, and screams at her to not just sit there and let whatever it is consume them whole and suck the life out of them through their tears.

“What’s wrong?” Yuki coaxes. “Ash?” 

Ash forces out another laugh. This one is almost real, marinated in bitterness and seasoned with regret– she can see the way he grimaces when he spits it out. “Did you know I never went to high school? Or middle school.  **Golzine** would sometimes bring in tutors, but then the tutors started asking questions he didn’t like, so then he just bought me books.” He laughs a little louder, a little more manically. “I didn’t get to talk to another kid my age until I was fifteen and running my own thing.” Yuki feels pins and needles of anxiety filter through the marrow in her bones and seep into the flesh and the nerves. Ash is still speaking Japanese, but it’s almost another language. She doesn’t know what any of it means, but she keeps listening anyway. “And they all expected me to be smarter than them, more mature,  _ better _ , somehow. I was just glad I was allowed to leave the house.” He smiles, but he’s crying now, and Yuki is fully terrified of what she’s hearing. “You know, I guess occasionally I  _ saw _ another kid my age, when Golzine wanted two, but you can’t really have much of a conversation when you’re–” and he blinks, and he realizes where he is, who he’s with, and he shudders, and Yuki shudders, and he says, “Sorry, I didn’t– I–”

With a half-smile that Yuki tries to use to convey whatever the twisting feeling in her stomach is, she tells him, “Don’t worry about it. It’s okay.” She doesn’t ask who Golzine is– even though part of her wants to know– because another part of her is getting closer to putting those puzzle pieces together, and she’s terrified. She goes back to her room to write her response letter. Her English may be choppy, with backward letters and uncertain grammar, but she’s learning as fast as she can. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyy yall this chapter brought to u by: This Is The Closest We Get To Joy For Two More Weeks So Enjoy It  
> i love u all uwu thank u for sticking w me i hope u r having as much fun as i am!!!!! :DD
> 
> Also, quick thing: i know I put a plug for my blog here last time, but here's the thing? I hate talking about myself? so i'm not super passionate about this blog?? so i ask here what y'all think: should I make a patreon (bc momma need to support herself owo), and if I did would anyone here participate? is that something any of yall would be interested in? I'm brainstorming rewards and tiers rn so any ideas of stuff yall would appreciate in that sense? idk lemme know y'all's thoughts
> 
> anyway, and as always:  
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!!!


	15. A Little About Tomoya, and a Little About Something Else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context: \/\/\/
> 
> Tomoya: *dog in the house on fire meme* everything is fi--  
> Tomoya:  
> Tomoya:  
> Tomoya: EVERYTHING IS NOT FINE AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH

Okumura Tomoya is a wonderful employee. He joined the Akamine Construction Group when he was 21 years old, after a string of high school part-time jobs and odd jobs after graduation. He was, at first, a very normal employee. Very dependable, but awkward with social interaction, and he kept much to himself. His fellow workers didn’t dislike him, but when he kept turning down invitations to hang out, they stopped inviting him. Nobody was ever quite sure what was going on in his head, but he showed up and followed orders well enough. He used to be a very mysterious person, almost a scary person, for the first two years that he worked with Akamine Construction. When Tomoya was 23, he changed. As in, flipped an entire one-hundred-and-eighty degrees and became almost a brand new person, almost overnight. He had met a girl, he would suddenly tell everyone who would listen, and she was beautiful like the moon and kind like the breeze and stubborn like the mountains and insidious like the forest, and he loved her. He began meeting up with his coworkers after work to hang out. His new girlfriend would send sweets to work with her boyfriend once in a while, along with his daily packed lunch. Tomoya had been given a fresh start, and he quickly became a favorite among his fellow employees. Then his girlfriend became his wife, and you thought you’d never seen a happier man– until, of course, his wife revealed she was pregnant, and then you  _ really _ thought you’d never seen a happier man. Babies are expensive, however, and babies wouldn’t fit in the one-room apartment Tomoya and Junko lived in at the time, and that’s how it came out that Tomoya had already bought an empty plot of land, and he was building a little house on it when he wasn’t on shift. His coworkers marveled at his drive– he would stop work just long enough to eat dinner with his wife, and then he would throw himself into building their house, and then he would repeat this every day. Somehow, he did it in nine months. Everything and the kitchen sink, finished about ten minutes before Junko’s contractions started– he drove her to the hospital in his work clothes, covered head to toe in dirt. The doctors made him take a shower before he could enter the delivery room. It was a boy. They named him Eiji, their greatest treasure. Tomoya’s coworkers threw him and Junko a party in their new house, small as it was. That house got bigger and bigger as the years went on. Now that Tomoya had a growing family, he began to strive at work. He was 25 years old and he became a foreman of his current construction crew. Then he was promoted to an even larger construction area. He kept rising through the ranks until he was a major construction technician, indispensable to the company for his insight, drive, and creativity. Now, at just barely 46 years old, Tomoya is one of the youngest men on the Akamine Construction Group board. All of that history, and he’s willing to take long business trips, even though they separate him from his beloved family (whom he gushes about at every turn). So when Junko calls in the middle of an important meeting about a proposed plan for a contracted building in Bogotá, Columbia, everyone tells him he can take the call– don’t worry about it, Tomoya, talk to Junko.

He answers the phone in the hallway and quickly moves to a more secluded bench when the first thing that registers through the speaker is Junko’s muffled sobs, tinny and distorted with static but very, very clear. 

“Junko? Darling? What’s wrong?”

She doesn’t answer him right away, sucking in her breath and sniffling first. 

Tomoya doesn’t like to assume the worst, but he can’t help it here: Junko is as unshakeable as gravity and as strong as the sun, she doesn’t cry much, and even then not like this. His mind, his very creative mind, flips through all the things that could have happened while he was away. It’s barely been a month– he’s scheduled to come home in another week or so. Anything could have happened. “Junko, are  _ you  _ alright? Are the kids alright?” Her sobs break all over again at the second question. Oh, gods. “Junko, you’re scaring me– What happened? Please–”

“Ash!” Junko cries, her voice shattering his eardrum even though it was hardly above a whisper. “Ash w-was– He’s–”

No, no no no– “Is Ash okay, Junko!? Is he safe?”

“Well he is  _ now _ ,” Yuki’s voice cuts into the line. Clearly, Tomoya is on speakerphone now. 

He’s got no clue where his wife and daughter are, or either of his sons, and he subconsciously softens his voice in case Ash is listening. “Yuki? What happened?”

Stifling a sniffle of her own, Yuki’s voice is thick when she replies, “Ash got mugged, Dad. He was getting some ingredients for Touya at that one cheap shop across town and someone c-caught him off guard, or something,” her voice cracks, “I don’t know but they stabbed him, Dad.”

Tomoya’s whole soul drops out of his body and he droops like a controlled demolition. Had he not been sitting down, he would have fallen, but he almost drops his phone in any case. None of his functioning remains except his hearing.

“He’s in the hospital now. They sedated him, but they had to do surgery. He’s laying down resting. The doctors say it was mostly just blood loss, ‘cause the knife hit an artery and his blood sugar was already low. They say he’s gonna be okay.”

He’s gonna be okay. Ash is going to be okay. His kids are all alive and safe. His family is still whole. 

“Th–… thank you, Yuki,” Tomoya stammers, voice paler than he wants it to be. “Are  _ you _ alright? And Eiji and your mom?”

“We’re all f-fine, darling,” Junko cuts in, “Just… shaken.”

Tomoya nods, even though no one can see it. For several minutes, he just breathes. He listens to Junko and Yuki breathe, and he can hear the faint beep of various hospital machines in the background. Not an EKG though, so they’re not in the room with Ash. He listens to them breathe, and he remembers to breathe himself. His body is caught in the aching grip of incessant worry, everything from his teeth to his ribs to the flesh of his palms spiking with tremors of tense fear. 

When he feels up to speaking, he states, “I’m getting the next flight home. I’m going to go now so that I can book the tickets. Call me if you need  _ anything _ , alright?” He hears small, worried noises of confirmation from Yuki and Junko. “I love you all, I’ll see you soon.” 

And then Tomoya hangs up and tries to calm himself down. He can’t go back to the meeting in this state, he wouldn’t be any help to anybody. Instead, he waits politely until the meeting has wrapped up before entering the room.

He must not have calmed down enough, because everyone can tell something is wrong. “Tomoya, what was that call– you look like you’ve seen a ghost!” Izumu, representing accounting on the board, remarks. 

“My son, he’s been hurt,” Tomoya answers, and talking is harder than he remembers it being a few minutes ago, “I’ve got to get home.”

“Eiji!?” Goro, who works with the union, croaks, “Well, is he alright?”

Shaking his head, Tomoya negates, “No, no, my other son– Ash.”

“Oh, the American,” Heisuke, the chief architect, recalls, “Gosh, I hope it turns out alright– go on, Tomoya, don’t let us keep you.”

Nodding vaguely and turning to go, feeling like his feet are never quite meeting the floor, and that one of these steps will send him plummeting, Tomoya turns and leaves the meeting. 

“Let us know when everyone is okay!” Izumu calls after him.

Tomoya goes straight to his hotel, packs his bags, and calls his airline. He doesn’t care if he has to be strapped to the wing of the plane, he is getting back to Japan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright i am. SO SORRY that this chapter is so short, but for thematic reasons, it must be. HOWEVER, on the bright side, this was the last chapter that i prewrote without a wordcount in mind, so you can expect a more consistent (read: slightly longer) length for future chapters! :DDDD  
> :DDDDDDDDD   
> i hope u enjoy ur healthy dose of angst uwu  
> (also. @wbss_12 where u at bb? r u ok? i haven't seen u in a while and i am worried abt u. even if u don't have the time/energy/interest to read pls just lemme know u ok QnQ many hearts for u <3)
> 
> i love u all so much and hope u and everyone u love (and every. single one. of ur cats) are staying safe, healthy, and happy!!!!!
> 
> As always,   
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!!


	16. Discounted Carrots are Worth Their Weight in Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context: \/\/\/
> 
> Ash: alright, don't be mad, but  
> Eiji: WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU NEED TO SPECIFY NOT TO BE MAD UNLESS I AM ABOUT TO HAVE A REASON TO BE MAD???  
> Ash: ............. okay, so don't be TOO mad  
> Eiji: THIS IS NOT A COMFORTING CORRECTION  
> Ash: well, the FUNNIEST thing just happened  
> Eiji: ASLAN JADE CALLENREESE GET TO THE F U C K I N G POINT BEFORE I HAVE AN ANEURYSM
> 
> Ash: who tf is that sexy man can i date him??  
> Yuki: knock yourself out trying  
> Eiji, exhausted: ash. we went on a date last week. pls.
> 
> Inside Tomoya and Junko's heads: *mii plaza theme music, overlayed with distant, growing screams of wordless panic*
> 
> the author, writing: *sobs*  
> the author, posting: *cackles*

Eiji had not been expecting a call from a random number while he was on his way home from class, but he answered it anyway. What else was he going to do on the train?

He was promptly very glad when he picked it up and Ash’s voice came through the receiver. “ **Hey, Eiji, can you come find me?** ” he had mumbled in English. Eiji had frowned. Ash’s voice didn’t sound quite right. 

“ **Did you get lost?** ” Eiji had quipped, trying for teasing in lieu of an easier option to lighten his own anxiety. “ **Where were you going that you got lost?** ”

“ **Well, I was getting some ingredients for Touya in that cheap shopping district–** ”

“ **You** **_know_ ** **how I feel about your shopping there, Ash. It’s not a nice area!** ”

Ash chuckled, but it had sounded strained. “ **Yeah, well, um–** ” Ash paused to cough– “ **you were right about that one.** ”

Eiji whined in the back of his throat, and then grumbled, “ **Ash, what does that mean?** ”

“ **Funny thing, Eiji. Don’t be mad– oh, Christ, you’re gonna be mad, aren’t you?** ”

Eiji nearly cried out in frustration with the circuitous explanation, but he did bear with it. “ **I won’t be mad, Ash.** ”

“ **But I was so fucking dumb– Eiji–** ” another cough– “ **Shit, fuck, I gotta get to the point. Promise you won’t be mad?** ” Ash’s words started to slur a little.

Eiji was getting worried. “ **I promise, Ash. Just tell me where you are so I can come find you.** ” He had heard Ash use this tone of voice before, and he didn’t like to think about those times. 

Ash was breathing harder by the time he got around to replying, “ **So, I was carrying some carrots, and I wasn’t really payin’ attention– you know, I just thought– god, I’m fucking dumb– I thought we’d left all this behin’ in… In N’York… and this guy came up behind me and got me in th’ ribs.** ”

Switching to anxious, shrill Japanese, Eiji demanded, “ _ What does that mean “ _ **_he got you in the ribs_ ** _ ”?” _

Ash didn’t seem to register much of the Japanese. He certainly didn’t respond to the question. “ **I’m… I’m bleedin’, like, a lot, Eiji… and I think I migh’… need a doct’r…** ”

“ _ You were stabbed!? _ ” Eiji shrieked, much to the consternation of his fellow train passengers. Self-consciously, Eiji switched back to English. “ **Ash, where are you right now? Whose phone is this?** ”

“ **I’s the stupid fuckin’ mugger’s phone– don’ worry I didn’ kill’m.”**

**“Ash, I am much more worried about you. I don’t give a rat’s ass if that guy dies. Where. Are. You.** ”

“ **Um… in a alley? I’s near that shoppin’ distric’ Are you close?** ”

Was he? Eiji checked the map posted to the side of the train. If he got off at the next stop… “ **Not close enough. Ash, I’m going to call the police. They’ll send an ambulance–”**

**“NO! No, Eiji, pleas’… don’ call the cops on me. I didn’ hurt ‘m bad. Jus’ knocked out I swear. Pleas’ Eiji, I’m tryn’a be good, I pr’mise.** ”

Eiji wanted to cry– his heart was exploding and his soul had already left his body to go comfort Ash. The train was a minute from the next stop. An older man approached Eiji from the other side of the train.

“Young man,” he whispered, “I couldn’t help but overhear…” he must have decided that getting to the point, in this case, was more important than formalities because he just said “I can call the ambulance, if you’d like? So you can stay on the line with your friend?” Eiji nodded frantically, and the man asked “Where is he?” and Eiji told him the general area, and the man nodded and dialed and spoke much more calmly than Eiji would have been capable of to the operator. 

“ **Ash?** ” Eiji called into the receiver, “ **Ash, answer me.** ”

“ **Jus’ resting,** ” Ash replied softly.

“ **Ash, I’m coming to you, alright? You gotta stay awake with me though.** ”

“ **Ya know tha’s a myth, right? … On TV peopl’re always like** **_oh stay wi’me Jim_ ** **, but if i’s jus’ blood loss i’s ac’shully not bad for’em to sleep. Jus’ gotta keep ‘em awake if i’s a conc-concussion…** ”

The train doors opened and Eiji took off at a dead sprint towards that shitty, shitty shopping district. “ **Yeah, but Ash, it’s scary for me if I can’t hear you or see you or anything. Understand?** ” A long silence followed, and Eiji ran faster for it. Not too much farther, but if he’s lucky the paramedics will have beat him there. “ **Ash? Angel?** ”

“ **Y’are my sunshine, my ‘nly sunshine,** ” Ash sang, “ **you make me happy when skies’re gray–** ” harsh coughing cut off Ash’s tune, but Eiji was so close now, he could hear sirens. He hummed the tune back to encourage Ash to keep singing for him. “ **You’ll never know, dear, how m’ch I love you…** ” Eiji could hear the words echoing off the graffitied walls of the labyrinthian alleyways of the cheap shopping district Ash liked to go to for ingredients. **“Pleas’ don’ take my sunshine away,** ” and Eiji saw Ash, curled up against a wall, the groaning mugger alive and mostly okay nearby (but he wouldn’t be using that hand anytime soon– the cut reminded Eiji of Arthur’s hand), humming the parts of “You Are My Sunshine” that he couldn’t remember the words to. 

“ **Ash! Ash, I’m here!** ” Eiji cried, even though he was inches from Ash’s face by then. 

Ash creaked his eyelids open like old shutters. “ **Are ya mad a’ me, Eiji?** ”

“ **No,** ” Eiji promised again, “ **Just scared.** ”

The paramedics arrived and swarmed like angry bees. “ **Don’ be scared, Eiji** ,” Ash chided, “ **You’ve seen me live through worse’n this** .” 

Eiji had been allowed to sit in the ambulance. The mugger had hitched a ride in the back of the police car. 

After a blood transfusion, an x-ray, and some stitches, it was revealed that the only thing the knife hit was an artery, and that Ash would have died if he had lost much more blood. The nurses mixed a sedative medication into Ash’s IV, dripping into the opposite arm of the blood transfusion, because he wouldn’t lay still enough for them to work with. Eiji almost snapped at them because he was biting his knuckles over how scared Ash must have felt under the cold, methodical hands of unknown people when he couldn’t fight back. 

He must have called Mom or Yuki when they were stitching Ash up in the operating theater because they showed up around the time they tucked Ash into some white sheets– which are apparently exactly the same no matter which side of the ocean you’re on– and explained that he was going to be alright after he healed up some. After badgering a story out of Eiji, they left him alone to call Dad and tell him what happened and to call Touya and tell him why Ash never came back from grocery shopping, and now it’s just Eiji, folded in on himself in a chair next to Ash’s hospital bed, reliving every horrible fear he felt rattle his flesh in America. 

Ash feels… heavy. Heavy like drunk kind of heavy but different but not Golzine’s drugs kind of heavy–  _ where is he? _

Ash sits straight up in bed and seeing that he’s in a hospital abates exactly zero percent of his fear and he might have tried to do something stupid like get up if Yuki and Tomoya hadn’t been stationed in stiff plastic chairs next to his bed. 

Unfortunately, the wonderful sedatives that kept Ash’s sleep undisturbed and dreamless are also keeping him from any recollection of who these people are, what’s going on, and where he is.

“ **Am I in Chinatown?** ” he blurts, much to Yuki and Tomoya’s surprise.

“ **No, you are in hospital** ,” Yuki tells him, trying out her English pronunciation.

Ash’s face screws up, confused. “ **Yeah, but which hospital, kid? There’s like twelve of these fuckers in Brooklyn alone. Where’s–** ” Ash’s sedated brain stretches for a name he remembers, “ **fuck, shit, dammit, is Golzine here?** ” Recognition flickers briefly across Yuki’s face, that name sounds familiar, although she can’t say for certain who Ash is talking about. Tomoya understands little to nothing of the conversation and smiles a little dumbly. “ **Alright, is Shorter around somewhere then? How much English do you speak?** ”

“ **You teach me most English I know,** ” Yuki drawls. She’s looking forward to seeing Ash eventually recognize his surroundings, and laughing. It will be the first time anyone in the family has laughed in two days. 

“ **I don’t even know you, kid, and who’s this guy?** ”

“ **That is our dad.** ”

“ **That is** **_not_ ** **my dad. My dad is a drunk bastard who– who, uh– oh, Jesus Fucking Christ they shot my fucking dad–** ”

“ **Who did what?** ”

“Does he not remember us?” Tomoya cuts in, eyes wide, red-rimmed and almost smiling. 

Yuki shakes her head with false solemnity, “Not at all, Dad.”

“ **You guys aren’t speaking English,** ” Ash realizes, “ **Why can I understand you. What language is that?** ”

Yuki giggles while she translates, and Tomoya too, and Tomoya says “You’re in Japan, we’re speaking Japanese.”

“ **I’m in… Knee-pon? What–** Japan!  **Japan! I’m in Japan!** ” Ash realizes, then asks, “ **Why am I in Japan?** ”

Tomoya and Yuki are both laughing outright now– which to Ash is about as comforting as a snapping wolf– he’s seen people laugh sweetly while doing awful things. So he defaults to his old factory programming and he snatches the pen off the bedside table and holds it like a weapon and demands “ **Where the fuck am I? Is Golzine controlling all of this? Come out you fat fucking bastard!** ” His mind is racing– in all the wrong directions, old directions, thanks to the drugs– he  _ knows _ he is alone he  _ knows _ he is hurt he  _ knows _ Golzine probably did something to him while he was unconscious he  _ knows _ not to hope for help. 

“ **Ash, Ash!** ” Tomoya calls, and he’s not laughing anymore. He can’t understand what Ash is saying, but he knows Ash looks scared in ways he last saw when he came home to his two boys covered in flour in the kitchen and Ash was scared to look him in the eyes. 

“ **Ash, you’re okay!** ” Yuki insists, **“Is us– you know us! You have drugs and you do not know better right now!** ”

“ **How the fuck can I know that you’re safe?** ” It’s an irrational question, one Ash would never ask sober.

Yuki holds out both arms and stands up to show her whole person clearly, saying “ **We do not have any weapon** .”

This placates Ash mostly because the sedatives are what your local drug-dealer would call “downers,” that is, the stuff Ash’s veins are being pumped full of are doing their best to get him to lay back down. So he unwittingly trusts this– conveniently for Yuki and Tomoya.

“ **Why am I in Japan?** ” Ash wants to know.

Now there’s a question. When Yuki translates it to her dad, both of them kind of just shrug. “We don’t really know,” Tomoya admits, “you just came home with my son about four months ago.” The man is looking more teary-eyed by the second, “You really don’t remember us?” Ash glares dubiously. Tomoya gets a little hysterical. “Yuki, do you think he got a concussion and will never remember us again!?”

“No, Dad, the doctor would have told us if he had a concussion.”

“But he’s my  _ son– _ !”

And then he’s cut off when Junko and Eiji, who had been badgered into going home for a night of actually restful sleep (and showers), swing the door open and immediately go in for a hug. 

“Ash!” Junko cries, “You’re awake!”

“ **I’m getting the feeling I might actually know you people** ,” Ash mutters over Junko’s shoulder. 

Eiji raises one concerned eyebrow, but doesn’t get time to ask before Ash is looking at him, steeling his expression, and failing to contain the words “ **Are we all seeing this guy or am I hallucinating?** ” at which Yuki guffaws, and then hides the rest of her laughter behind her hands, Ash can’t  _ not _ say the words in his head– as his previous conversation with Yuki and Tomoya made very clear– and so he can’t help but say, “ **No, seriously, look at this guy? Does he speak English? Do you think he’d want to talk to me? You–** ” he gestures to Yuki, “ **kid, will you translate for me so I can ask this guy out?** ”

Rolling her eyes, Yuki asks between fits of giggles, “Yeah, sure, but how are you planning on communicating during the date?”

Had Ash considered this without so much enthusiasm, Yuki might not have laughed hard enough to rope her parents into it. As it stands, Eiji is frozen in place and a little flustered. “ **Ash!** ” he snaps, “ **You don’t need to ask me out! We went on a date a little over a week ago!** **Now lay down before your blood sugar takes you down with it!** ” He mutters to himself, “Jeez, you’d think I would have seen him on sedatives like this before!”

“ **Why would you have seen that?** ” Ash asks, perfectly oblivious to who Eiji is.

“Because, you fool, we were in American together fighting Golzine–”

“ **We were** **_what!?_ ** **No, no no no, I am** **_so sorry_ ** **, dude. Nobody should have to– it’s– I’m–”**

Eiji is quick to wrap Ash in a hug, relegating Junko to titter with relieved laughter next to Yuki and Tomoya. He murmurs, “ **Ash, it’s okay. I’m fine. We’re fine.** ”

Ash pulls back from the hug, spends a solid forty-nine seconds straight staring directly into Eiji’s eyes, noticing the scar on his cheek, and realizing, “Eiji?” And Eiji nods, and Ash cries, “Eiji! I was so confused! Thinking with these drugs is like being a twig in the mud, you’re, like,  **stuck** .”

“You can’t figure out how to close your mouth, can you?” Eiji asks, grinning a little.

“Not at  _ all _ . I have no idea what words are coming out of my mouth, can you help me shut up before I say something that will traumatize– ooohhhhh, look! Eiji, look! It’s Yuki! And Ma! And Dad! I love those guys!” Ash waves too-enthusiastically before drooping into Eiji’s shoulder. “Alright, I’m tired now, can you sit with me? I still don’t remember why I’m here. But you’re here, so…”

“Sure, Ash,” Eiji promises, “I’ll sit with you.”

And before the sentence is even fully out of Eiji’s mouth, Ash is asleep. And Yuki, Mom, and Dad are considerate enough to lose their minds laughing in the hallway, where it won’t disturb anyone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lasdjfsdjkfa hehehehe hi guys i wish i could tell you that this is the last of the angst, but u don't want me to LIE to u!!! 
> 
> no but for reals for reals i love u all so much. u guys are making my quarantine so nice. >w<
> 
> quarantine tip: want to play w ur friends, but also want to respect social distancing like a True Hero? I have 3 game ideas for u!!  
> 1.) virtual hide-and-go-seek! just pick a place that everyone you are dming or texting or messaging knows about and give them extremely vague hints about this place until they guess it  
> 2.) virtual scavenger hunt! I did this for easter, you just put an image, word, or emoji in all sorts of places and see if your friends can find them! (insta bio, comments section of a post you all will see, groupchat name, etc)  
> 3.) jackbox games is an Xbox one and/or steam game that can be played long distance and I find fun! only one person needs to own it for everyone to play! 
> 
> I hope you all are managing as best as you can and staying safe, healthy, and happy right now!! lyasm!!
> 
> and, as always,  
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!


	17. What a fucking bitch.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER!!! Non-graphic homophobia, with one slur ("faggot").   
> If you have sensitivities to these topics, you can read up until Eiji and Yuki go to the cafeteria, and then just leave a comment and I will summarize the content for you in a non-triggering way. Thank you for taking care of yourself!! <3
> 
> Now, as normal:
> 
> Spoilers, but I give you no context:
> 
> Yuki: *puts bread on both sides of Eiji's head* what are u?  
> Eiji, tearing up: still sad
> 
> Eiji: what the FUCK is up kyle. no. step the FUCK up  
> random asshole: dlfjdsjfdskfjalsdf oof ouch my bones
> 
> doctor: GET UR FUCKIN DOG  
> tomoya, Junko, and Yuki: it don't bite  
> doctor: YES IT DO

“Nii-chan, he’s  _ fine _ . He woke up. He got loopy. He screamed a little bit about somebody named “Golzine” and he forgot that he had come to Japan. Calm down already.”

Unfortunately, Eiji will not calm down. He’s jittery and nervous and he snaps at the nurses every time they come in to check Ash’s vitals and take notes on their little clipboards and frown at him without reacting because they’ve seen this or something like it a million times on a million faces. They work in a hospital, after all, but Eiji hates them a little for it. He’s not sure why he hates  _ them _ – there’s a perfectly good criminal waiting for a prison sentence that he could hate– but the nurses are here, and they just frown at him, nothing more, and they don’t do  _ anything _ when Eiji glares or slams his palm on the hard metal railing at the foot of the bed or shouts at them, and they don’t go home like Mom or Dad or Yuki, and they treat Ash so gently, and they bring Eiji food sometimes when Eiji forgets, and they don’t kick him out, and Eiji just wants to scream and rail and cry because  _ he hates them _ . 

Because Eiji should have been there, and he wasn’t, so here they all are. Him and Ash and Yuki and the nurses. 

“Nii-chan, you look like a three-day-old, convenience-store onigiri.”

“What does that even mean, Yuki,” Eiji grumbles.

“It means you look awful.  **Death warmed over** .”

“Your English is improving.”

Yuki flashes a brief, proud smirk before continuing in her track. “My point stands on even better legs then.” She inspects Eiji up and down with a look that goes as deep into his soul as a little sister’s can. “Why is this hurting you so bad? Ash-nii is alright! He fought off an armed mugger and lived! You should be proud– that’s really freaking cool!”

Eiji almost wants to tell her. That this isn’t cool. Violence isn’t cool. He’s seen Ash fight off forty-three gangsters with guns in a moving subway. That ended about the same, except Eiji hadn’t been allowed to go to the hospital with him that time. And Ash died that time. Violence isn’t cool, it’s scary, and Eiji’s even more scared of what Ash could have done. He knows what Ash could have done. What he didn’t do–  _ chose _ not to do because he’s different now than he was in America and Eiji can feel it when they walk home together after Eiji’s classes or Ash’s shift and Ash doesn’t look over his shoulder and his right hand– his dominant hand, his shooting hand, his knife hand– is wrapped around Eiji’s left and they talk without listening for footsteps between words. 

Eiji knows that, in America, no random stabber would have gotten Ash unless he was distracted. Eiji knows there isn’t much that distracts Ash, and he knows he is one thing that can, and he hates himself for it because if he hadn’t brought Ash to Japan then Ash wouldn’t have let his guard down and he wouldn’t be drugged up on pain medication and sedatives heavy enough to make him forget where he is. 

“Nii-chan, don’t  _ cry _ , I don’t know what to do with you when you cry!”

Except, no. Maybe that’s not quite right. Eiji can’t rewind time, but say he could, maybe he could go back. What would he do differently? 

Keep Ash in America to be drawn back into gang politics and violence and drugs and grief and the weight of doing too much too young and burying every part of him that cries at soft movies and mothers’ hugs? No.

Leave Ash to Golzine for a lifetime of abuse and rape with no way out and no one to trust or care about him or tell him that not every man is out to get you? No. 

Abandon Ash early in their relationship so that he could struggle alone forever without anyone to ask him what’s wrong when he’s shaking under layers of blankets at four in the morning? No.

Shuffle out of that bar without asking if he could hold Ash’s gun and never know him? No.

Ash would have been stabbed sometime by someone if Eiji had never been there, never asked him if he wanted out and dragged him along to live with his family in Japan when he whispered that he had  _ never wanted in at all but Eiji how can I get out at this point I’m a monster look at what I’ve done look at what I’ve done to you–  _

But Eiji should have been there, “I should have been there,” and Ash shouldn’t have had to face that kind of pain alone.

Yuki’s face screws up like she can smell the blood that Eiji smells from too many nights that never should have happened. “But you  _ were _ there, weren’t you?” she reminds him, “I thought he called you, and you talked to him on the phone while you ran there from the train station? That’s what you told the police the other day.” Her arms are folded, her legs crossed: standard sibling ‘ _ I know you, and you are being dumb’ _ pose. “Nii-chan, I don’t know what you two were doing in America, but probably? Ash-nii is fine, and you’re projecting onto the nurses.” Yuki waves a hand at Eiji and rolls her eyes, “He’ll be up by tomorrow and complaining about the IV, or not being able to read the Japanese on his chart, or,  _ I don’t know _ , your hovering.” Quite a bit of this speech is bravado: Yuki remembers with more clarity than she’d like a bad, bad night where Eiji wanted to see Ash’s old bullet wound, and she doesn’t know how much of their bodies is kintsugi art by now. 

But Eiji sighs, and he accepts it. For the sake of changing the subject, he grumbles something about  _ how do both of you have such low blood sugar _ , and he drags Yuki down to the cafeteria to eat some lunch. 

When the siblings return, there’s a doctor checking some things on Ash’s chart, she’s got a kind smile, and Eiji can tell from the posture in her spine that she feels intimidated. “Ah, the host family, I presume?” she greets them genially.

Yuki nods, but she’s still not overfond of new people, so she nudges Eiji in front of herself. “That’s us,” Eiji replies, in a marginally better mood after eating “how does he look?”

The doctor finishes her notes on the back of Ash’s clipboard and shrugs. “He’ll be ready to go home in a day or two– it really wasn’t as bad as it could have been. His stay was only extended this long due to blood loss.” She chuckles in a complicated way, “The attacker has it worse, honestly. His hand… I’ve never seen anybody do that so expertly.”

“I have,” Eiji mutters, but it carries farther in the quiet room, and the doctor and Yuki both hear it.

The doctor looks a little confounded, a little affronted, a little consternated. “I’m so sorry, sir, how did you know the patient?”

“I’m his boyfriend,” Eiji replies simply, and he watches the doctor’s face fall for a moment. 

Uncertainty, anxiety, awkwardness, disgust. 

Then her professionalism returns and she smiles again and she says, “Well, your  _ friend _ will make a full recovery, sir.” She stresses those syllables like she doesn’t know already that it’s a slap in the face regardless. “I do have to ask, however, do you or your parents happen to know his medical history? He almost has more scar tissue than skin, and I’m not sure all of the prior injuries healed properly– and I have some concerns about a history of sexual… um,  _ issues _ .” She looks directly at Eiji, blamefully, “ _ you _ wouldn’t happen to know about that, would you, sir?”

As if Eiji had  _ done that _ . As if Eiji wouldn’t have died a thousand times the way Skipper died, the way Shorter died, and countless times worse if it would have spared Ash some of that pain. As if Eiji isn’t about to vomit just hearing such a blasé, professional confirmation of the extent of the damage to Ash’s body from all the years where Eiji couldn’t possibly have been there for him. 

“No. I wouldn’t,” Eiji chokes out.

At some point, the doctor shows herself out. 

At some point after that, Yuki mutters “What a  **fucking bitch** .” 

Eiji replies, “Keep an eye on Ash, I’ll be back.”

He’s really just planning on a walk. He doesn’t mean to get into trouble. Eiji’s just strolling the quiet, mid-afternoon streets around the hospital, trying not to think about the look on that doctor’s face. Trying to remember if any of the doctors in America were so two-faced about their care– because he’s trying to understand how many times in the past Ash might have been treated differently for something so superficial and out of his control. Eiji’s never dated anybody, so he never had a problem with it before, but Ash never had a choice who he dated before, so who knows how often the circumstances got thrown in his face like sand.

With all of this on his mind and mixing with the built-up tension from 2 days straight of being pent up in the hospital next to his boyfriend after he was stabbed trying to get bargain groceries, please forgive Eiji if he snaps a little when he hears a passing stranger snicker and tell his friend on the phone, “Did you see that fucking faggot? I’d want to punch him in the face too–”

That’s as far as that sentence gets, because then Eiji has his arm stretched too far behind him for words to comfortably leave the gaping asshole he calls a mouth anymore. Eiji could dislocate this man’s shoulder. Or snap his elbow. Or throw his knee into the middle of his forearm and crack it in half. Or stomp the man’s face into the curb. He can feel the tension in the muscles and tendons where they hold his arm together and he knows how easily they tear–

But the moment passes. 

What is he doing? What will hurting this man accomplish? It won’t put the blood back in Ash’s body, or ease Yuki’s fearful concern, or erase a year of horror from a mind unprepared to handle it. He releases the man’s arm. 

“I-I–…” Eiji stammers, “Sorry. Um. Don’t… don’t call people that.”

The man holds his arm– it’s not injured, but it might feel especially well-stretched– close to his chest and picks his phone up and backs away. “What the fuck, man!?” Then he’s gone. 

What has Eiji done? What did he almost do!? He could have hurt that man! Slurs are one thing, but physical violence–… Eiji can see the clearest image of slamming that man’s face into the curb and watching his teeth shatter. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like that he can see it so clearly. He hates the way his skin feels and he can’t stand the thoughts slinking like eels through his brain. Everything feels like pins and needles on the inside of his body tissue.  _ What did he almost do? _

Instinctively– when did this become an instinct?– Eiji meanders back towards the hospital, because the police won’t be looking for him there if that man decides to call the police. He wipes his hands on his jeans over and over again until they tingle with overstimulation and he can’t feel the too-tight stretch of human sinew under his fingernails. 

His cell phone rings. It’s Yuki. 

“Yuki, what’s up?” Yuki never calls, she only texts. She hates talking on the phone. 

“Eiji?” There’s yelling in the background, but too many voices to distinguish between them. “Eiji, I think you need to get back here fast– Ash woke up and he forgot where he was again. The doctor is saying she’s gonna call the cops.” Yuki’s voice is thin and high and stressed, she’s crying. Eiji is already halfway running up the stairs to Ash’s room. 

“Ash,” that’s Mom, failing at staying calm, “Ash, put the knife down.”

“ **Where the fuck am I?** ”

“Yuki, what’s he saying?”

“ _ Ash! _ ” Eiji cries. The scene isn’t pretty. The doctor is next to the help-call button by the bed, and Dad is doing his best to get in between her and the button, trying to stop her from getting the authorities involved. Yuki and Mom are trying to get Ash to calm down, with Mom trying to talk him down and Yuki translating the words coming out of his mouth. Ash is in the corner of the room, eyes scanning everyone for signs of a fight and fingers clutched around a knife that isn’t quite a scalpel, but is a little close in the sense that it’s clearly intended for medical use, he’s yanked his IV out, but it doesn’t seem like he’s ripped his stitches yet. Everyone stops fighting for a split second when they see Eiji walk in. 

Mom whispers, “Ei-chan, he won’t let anyone close. I wouldn’t try to–”

But Eiji ignores his mom and walks right up to Ash, who recognizes him in some small way that makes him drop the knife before, after a few seconds of Eiji standing less than two feet in front of him, recognition sparks in his eyes. The fight leaves him too quick, and his knees give out beneath him. Eiji catches him.

“ **Eiji** ,” Ash whispers, voice tense and angry like it used to be, “ **where am I** ?”

“ **You’re in Japan with me and my family** ,” Eiji explains. “ **You got hurt, so you’re in the hospital** .” And Ash believes him because he knows he can. 

“He’s dangerous,” the doctor sniffs.

Yuki’s voice is full of more venom than Eiji’s ever heard, “No, you just have him on morphine. I checked his chart and I looked it up and that’s known to cause confusion. You’ve gotta switch him to something else.”

“Young lady, you should  _ respect _ your elders–”

“Don’t talk to my daughter like that!” Mom snaps viciously.

“Especially when she’s right–!” Dad adds.

Eiji turns to everyone, “Get out.”

The doctor doesn’t struggle. Just throws her hands up exasperatedly and goes.

“Ei-chan–” Dad starts.

“Go,” Eiji interrupts. “He needs to calm down,” he adds, to soften his words, “give us a minute.” They all go and continue their argument outside.

“ **Have I done this before?** ” Ash asks.

Eiji nods, “ **Once. But it was funnier that time. You didn’t get a knife. Yuki thinks it’s the morphine they’ve got you on** .”

Ash nods while Eiji resituates him in the bed. “ **Morphine always makes me paranoid and confused. I can’t think too clearly.** ”

“ **Are you going to be alright if I leave for a second to get the doctor?** ”

Ash’s hand grips Eiji’s tight, “ **Please don’t go** .”

Eiji right hand holds Ash’s, and his left reorganizes Ash’s hair in gentle strokes. “ **Alright** . You’re alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyy yall so this chapter was angsty but i hope yall still enjoy!!!! stay tuned next week for a doctor who isn't Awful(tm)
> 
> I'm playing simmssssss today with my sisstterrrrr and researching colleges (I've been accepted to 5 out of the 9 i applied to, so i gotta pick one now O~O) how is yalls quarantine going???  
> (also, anyone heard from @wbss21 ? this is a worrying time to suddenly lose contact w someone and i haven't heard from them in a while OnO)  
> anyways, i love u all!!! all of my babies who comment on a lot of chapters or even multiple works, u guys are just <33333 u all have a timeshare space in myheart uwu
> 
> as always,  
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!


	18. Sometime can come for me later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context: 
> 
> Dr ladies: *bickering*  
> Eiji: can i get a waffle?  
> dr ladies: *getting reprimaded for being gross*  
> Eiji: can i Please get a waffle?
> 
> Ash: i have never been safe in mah laife  
> Eiji: :)  
> Ash: i lied. i have been safe in mah laife

Yuki’s never been that scared. Not once. Not even when that asshole from school told her he’d punch her in the face if she didn’t flunk the next test (she did not flunk, of course, she aced it and then went home and he never made good on his promise because she has some very aggressive older brothers). But she can ignore the fear for a minute because this homophobic bitch won’t give her stupid blond brother a pain relief option that lets him stay lucid. 

“I can’t be having this conversation with the family of a patient,” she snaps haughtily. “You have to trust the professionals.”

“And I’m telling you that my brothers are in there losing their minds because you have Ash taking medicine that is reacting badly with him!” Yuki insists. 

“We won’t take no for an answer,” Mom says, “this isn’t a safe thing for anyone–”

“So you agree he’s dangerous!” the doctor barbs her words with bitterness.

Dad’s voice is a plea for reason. “Anybody would be just as dangerous in that situation. We’re not asking for much–”

And then Eiji steps out of the room, looking four times more exhausted than he was this morning after staying up most of the night in case Ash woke up alone. He walks up to the doctor and tells her, “I don’t know a lot about Ash’s medical history, but I know he has a history of abuse and other trauma– he’s got anxiety about a lot of authority figures like police officers. He’s been drugged against his will many times before, and he’s been forcibly restrained before too. I don’t know everything though,” Eiji sighs heavily. “He just told me he’s had bad interactions with morphine before, so if we could stop giving him that–”

The doctor makes a face, “Well, unless you want me to take him off pain relievers altogether…”

Another doctor strides down the hall and intercepts the conversation. “Doctor Sasaki, what seems to be the problem here?”

Doctor Sasaki visibly flusters. “N-nothing! These people are just–”

The new doctor, who must actually be a little older and more experienced than Sasaki, raises her eyebrows and frowns. “Really? Because Mr. Nakamura called me into his room because you were making such a ruckus arguing with a patient’s family and he couldn’t watch his game shows in peace.” The blood drains from Sasaki’s face. “Go home,” the new doctor says, “cool your head. I won’t have you repeating the incident from two years ago.”

This new doctor really has to be Sasaki’s senior, because Sasaki looks thoroughly chastised and turns to go, muttering  _ that fucking old man, fuck you, Mr. Nakamura _ . 

“Doctor Inoue Mitsuki,” the new doctor introduces herself. “I’m so sorry about Sasaki, her behavior is inexcusable. It’s unfortunate that I have to say we’ve had this problem with her once before. I’ll be taking over the patient’s care for her.” She sweeps her gaze around the group with a look that balances sympathy, apology, and clinical efficiency. “Now, what seems to be the problem?”

“My, uh,” Eiji won’t make the same mistake twice if it’s going to cause Ash more pain than it’s worth, “my friend.” Yuki looks at him sharply about that, even if she understands. “He’s here after surgery– he was stabbed by a mugger– and the morphine isn’t working for him. He wakes up and forgets where he is for a while.”

Dad gives him a look that roughly translates to  _ that’s putting it lightly _ , but then Mom gives Dad a look that roughly translates to  _ you’re one to talk _ , but nobody really knows what that means so they ignore both looks. 

Doctor Inoue frowns perfunctorily, “Well, that won’t do, will it? I’ll have to check his chart and see what we’re dealing with, but we can likely switch him to Fentanyl or Dilaudid with no trouble.”

“You won’t find much on his chart,” Eiji mutters under his breath. Yuki only hears because she’s standing right next to him. Whatever, she knew it was true before he said it. To Doctor Inoue, he says, “Can you put the IV needle back in him?” 

She nods. “Oh! Absolutely– I’m so sorry I had no idea it had been removed. I’ll just be right back.” She makes her way to the door.

Eiji replies, “It might be best if I’m in there with him when you do.”

Doctor Inoue doesn’t question this, just holds the door open for Eiji and they both go in and Yuki and Mom and Dad all wait in the hallway and try not to ruminate too much– because the past few minutes have been… a lot.

When Ash snaps awake to the cold impression of an antiseptic alcohol swab on his arm, he still doesn’t quite know where he is. He’s prepared to freak out and find a weapon as a doctor’s gloved hands present a needle for his arm. He’s done this before. He can get out of this. He’ll fight his own way out. He knows he can. 

But Eiji is on his other side, holding his free hand.

“ **Hey, Ash,** ” he murmurs, “ **This is Doctor Inoue, she’s safe. She’s just putting an IV with some painkillers and saline in.** ”

Ash’s face feels heavier with each conscious second, and his side screams and burns– why does it hurt so bad? He can’t remember. But Eiji says it’s safe. He trusts Eiji. Maybe Eiji didn’t grow up like Ash did, but he’s not dumb. Ash trusts Eiji. So he doesn’t impale the doctor with the pen poking out of the pocket of her scrubs when he feels the needle go under his skin and push something comfortably cool into his veins. 

The doctor smiles at Ash. Ash does his best to smile back. “Does he understand Japanese well enough?” she asks Eiji, and he nods, so she says to Ash, “You’re being very calm. That’s good. Good job.” Then, to Eiji again, “I’ve given him a solution with Dilaudid instead of morphine, the side effects should pass once the morphine is out of his system. Alright?”

Eiji nods again and bows his head a little. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“No trouble at all,” she says. “Ash, how do you feel? Does it hurt anywhere?”

“ **My side hurts** ,” Ash tells her. Doctor Inoue looks to Eiji for a translation. Ash doesn’t understand how he can hear her but she can’t hear him– it hasn’t yet processed for him that they’re speaking different languages.

“He says it hurts where he was stabbed,” Eiji restates.

“ **I was stabbed?** ”

“ **Yes, Ash. That’s why we’re in the hospital** .”

“ **How many times have you told me that before?** ”

“ **This makes three, angel** .”

“ **Sunshine.** ” Ash smiles at Eiji, just because he can, and he feels that bone-deep kind of safety that makes him feel like he can really relax. Maybe that’s the first of the Dilaudid hitting his veins, he doesn’t know. 

“Do you think it’s alright if the family comes in?” Doctor Inoue asks Eiji, “I’m sure they’re just as worried as you.”

Eiji nods, and Doctor Inoue opens the door. Three more people make their way in as quietly as people inexperienced with stealth can– and the naive attempt makes Ash chuckle. 

“ **Ash, this is my family. You’ve been living with us for 4 months.** ”

“ **Almost five** ,” Yuki cuts in sharply. “ **Ash, why do you never remember me and Mom and Dad, only Eiji?** ”

Ash smirks, “ **Are you kidding? I’ve had to recognize Eiji blind and dumb with drugs a helluva lot stronger than these painkillers. That’s how he saved me that one time after–** ”

“ **Alright, Ash, that’s enough** ,” Eiji interrupts, clapping a hand over Ash’s mouth with a nervous laugh. Yuki already looks halfway to traumatized. And Ash’ll kill himself over this when he’s not loopy on intravenous medication. 

Eiji quickly retracts his hand when Ash licks it. “ **What? Have we not told them about how we met?** ” Ash asks, looking to Yuki, who shakes her head, “ **But that story’s so funny–** ” Then Ash seems to remember events more clearly, because he continues, **“except the part where Skipper–… I miss Skipper** .” 

“Me too,” Eiji whispers.

Ma and Dad scooch farther into the room. “Ash,” Dad starts cautiously, “do you remember us?”

Ash shrugs. He doesn’t know, really. It’s like when you see someone on the street, and you could swear you used to know them so well, but now the memory is blurred and faded, hazy. He couldn’t say why he knows them, or from where. “ **I know you’re safe** ,” he tells them.

Eiji translates: “He says he knows you’re kind people.”

Yuki may not be an expert in English yet, but she can tell what was lost in translation. She smiles at Ash, and he smiles back. 

Ash can’t stay awake much longer, so he goes to sleep. Dr. Inoue says that’s for the best since people heal faster while they’re asleep. She also says she’s going to go read through any medical notes they have on file for Ash, and that she’ll be back in a while, and that the family is free to stay as long as they’d like. Then Dr. Inoue leaves them be. 

Eiji holds Ash’s left hand, and Mom holds his right. Yuki plays on her handheld console in the corner. Dad leans his head on Mom’s shoulder and watches Ash’s chest rise and fall. 

Yuki falls asleep in her chair after a long time of this quiet. Eiji can’t get the image of a New York hospital, Ash smiling out the window with bandages around his neck, out of his head. Maybe Mom can feel his thoughts because she looks down at Eiji, where his head is resting on the hospital bed, and she gives him a calm, concerned kind of frown.

“Ei-chan,” she murmurs, “you… you and Ash have to tell your father and I what happened in America sometime.” Eiji stiffens. No. Not that. “It doesn’t have to be now,” she says, “but we’re worried.”

“I know,” Eiji responds, barely even a whisper, “I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know what else to say. It’s been a long day. 

Dad is dozing too, he couldn’t get any sleep on the plane ride over, and it’s hitting him now, and Mom pushes his head to a more comfortable spot on her shoulder. “You don’t have to be sorry, Eiji. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Eiji knows better. He doesn’t answer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all. BIG fucking shoutout to my stepdad, who lets me bother him with all sorts of really weird medical questions that google looks at and goes "uhhhh what the FUCK does that mean???" (like: if a patient is having a bad reaction to intravenous morphine two or three days after a surgery, would you switch them to fentanyl or Dilaudid, and why? (the answer: Dilaudid, because it has fewer side effects and less chance of addiction) and other such wonderful questions!!!) he's got over 20 years Exp as an emt/firefighter and he's always a huge help w my violent ass fics. <3 thanks for thattttt uwu (he never reads my stuff bc he doesn't like to read, but he lets me tell him abt it so) if i seem to have any medical knowledge at all, its from this man. valid man. anyways.  
> I'll be honest i do not have anything witty for you. I just spent 11 hours cleaning a strangers house (WHY WERE THERE USED PADS JUST LYING OPEN ON THE FLOOR WTF) and i have to read 80 pages and write a report, write a poem about my culture (sike i ain't got no culture i am descended from trailer trash and rednecks, and i ain't neither) by nine am so I can get on a zoom call for class and then go back to clean the rest of the house i am so fucking tired someone send help. tbh even if i don't respond to ur comments right away, i still see them within like an hour of u posting them cause i get a lil email and i genuinely get so excited that i tell anyone in earshot what yall said so just so u guys know u r famous in my family and friendgroup and it is not an exaggeration to say that i would have lost steam on this so long ago without u guys i love u all so much and i genuinely fucking mean that.   
> alright I'm being blamed for something so i gotta cut this short also i don't remember where i was going with this??? anyway. I'm tired. i love u guys. if u got a religion pray for us both. oh shit also i am now going to be behind on chapters i am in the process of writing next week's so if these get shorter i am so sorry i am doing my best i promise.  
> sorry. this went on for too long.
> 
> as always,  
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!!!


	19. File Folder Elephant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context:
> 
> Dr. Inoue: hey so uhhhh about Ash...  
> Eiji: O~O  
> Junko: Q~Q  
> Dr. Inoue: i was just gonna ask...  
> Eiji and Junko: Q~Q  
> Dr. Inoue: ya know what i will come back later
> 
> Yuki: akchually, that is incorrect, because according to the encyclopedia of pflpflplfplpflplfplfplfp

When Dr. Inoue Mitsuki returns, Eiji and Junko are still awake, and Yuki and Tomoya are still asleep. Mitsuki smiles fondly, then sombers and grips the little manilla file folder a little tighter in her hand. She can’t just leave now. Eiji and Junko are already looking at her. Each of them are holding one of Ash’s hands. Mitsuki’s been at this for 27 years now, but this is never the kind of news she’s had to tell a patient’s family– biological or not. 

She enters the room and shuts the door silently behind her. Even though she was certain she was quiet (and this is proved by the continued sleep of Yuki and Tomoya), Ash still stirs like he might wake up from his medically-induced nap, brow furrowing until Eiji hums a short little note that seems to calm him down into a deeper unconsciousness. Junko watches this with a deeper frown than Mitsuki has seen on her before.

Maybe Eiji knows more than Mitsuki’s file folder. 

No, look at him. He  _ definitely _ knows more than Mitsuki’s file folder. She saw that before, when he asked to be in the room with her and calmed Ash right down when she felt the muscles in his arm flex and tighten the moment she swabbed the crook of his elbow with an alcohol wipe. She wouldn’t be here if Eiji didn’t know more than her file folder. 

She takes the one empty chair when Junko gestures to it with a forced smile. Mitsuki nods and sets the folder on her lap. “I’ll be honest,” she whispers, “I don’t know how much of Ash’s medical history your family knows, and I don’t know how much Dr. Sasaki told you either, so I wanted to have a quick sit-down with you all and go over his medical file. If now is a bad time–”

“Is that it?” Eiji replies. His tone came off sharper than he meant it to, and he softens it when he amends, “Sorry– I meant, is that his medical file?” Mitsuki glances at it, as if it might have changed in the past few seconds. “He’s only been here for four days, right? Why is it so thick?” Eiji’s expression isn’t a shocked one, just a surprised one. Mitsuki can tell the difference, with her experience. Shocked would be if Eiji had no clue what he was about to hear. Surprised means he knows what’s in there, and doesn’t know why it’s in there. Eiji already knows. He’s asking what Mitsuki’s colleagues found with their unfamiliar eyes and unfeeling machines.

Mitsuki gives him a grimacing grin, “We had to do a small surgery to repair the artery, but you know that. However, when we saw his torso, the amount of scar tissue made my surgical colleagues more than a little concerned about the state of the rest of his body, so they looked over his whole body to try to piece together what sort of preexisting conditions may have come from any of these. We didn’t find any that would necessarily complicate the procedure, but a significant portion of his skin is scar tissue. And most of those injuries didn’t heal properly. We don’t know for sure, but one of the head surgeons puts a guess at maybe only five or six of those injuries having been treated professionally.”

Eiji nods. Junko’s expression has hardened into something fierce, and the arm she has looped around her husband has tightened its grip. 

“I don’t say this to scare you, because most of these injuries, for better or worse, have healed entirely, but I’m asking if you know anything that we don’t. Something that could potentially help us give Ash the most comprehensive treatment we can.”

Junko, at first, looks ready to give her son a coaxing, maybe even stern look, but the moment she sees him, it bleeds compassionate and comforting. 

Eiji looks ready to cry. He’s got both hands around Ash’s now, and that looks to be the only thing keeping the water in his eyes. He nods. “I know some,” he whispers hoarsely, “but… not today. Please.”

If Mitsuki could verbally wince, you would hear it when she says, “Of course.” Something maternal– even though Mitsuki never had children herself– shoves her a pen out of her pocket, and she scribbles her personal cell number on a piece of scratch paper and hands it to Junko, who’s just a bit closer. “If you ever need me, this is my personal phone number. I’ll pick up any time of day.” 

“What’s a time of day?” a smaller voice slurs from the corner. Yuki is stretching widely– Mitsuki knows better than anyone the kind of abuse these chairs can give your back– and yawning and mumbling herself awake. “Oh? Dr. Inome? Inoue? Dr. Inoue.”

“Good morning, Yuki– or, I guess it’s almost 3 pm now.”

“Did you sleep well?” Eiji asks, only a little hollow-sounding. 

Yuki shrugs the last soreness off (taking her young musculature for granted), and grumbles, “Not really. How’s Ash-nii?”

“He’ll be ready to go home in another day or so, as long as he keeps resting like he is.”

“Tha’s good,” Yuki acknowledges. “I’m ready to go home.”

“That’s actually the other reason I’m here,” Mitsuki says, “to ask if any of you would like to go home early to possibly make some adjustments to your home.”

“What do you mean, doctor?” Junko asks– just barely not a demand. The woman is exhausted and worried and Mitsuki decides to get to the point before she snaps. 

“Ash may have limited mobility for a few weeks after he goes home.” 

Every conscious family members’ face drops. Ash even stirs a little more in his sleep. 

Mitsuku quickly adds, “This is totally normal, and his mobility will recover with him. He won’t suffer any sort of long-term detriments. This is just for Ash’s benefit.”

“Why won’t he be able to  _ walk _ ?” Yuki asks, a little more sharply than necessary but Mitsuki expects this kind of reaction to this kind of news. “Did something happen to his legs?”

“Or spine?” Junko adds. Eiji buries his head in the collection of his and Ash’s hands.

“No! No, nothing like that at all!” Mitsuki says. Perhaps she was a little too loud because now Tomoya is blinking himself to bleary consciousness as well. “But we use a lot of muscles in our abdomen when we walk, and especially when we stand up and sit down. Some of these muscles in Ash’s abdomen were damaged. The wheelchair is a precaution to make sure there won’t be any additional strain on these muscles while the tissue heals completely.”

“Oh,” Junko sighs, and it sounds relieved. Tomoya smiles at her, still not clued into what Mitsuki is talking about at all. 

“When you put it like that,” Yuki says with a little grin, “it doesn’t sound so bad.”

Eiji hiccups a conflicted laugh but doesn’t say anything. Just brushes some hair out of Ash’s sleeping eyes.

Yuki, Mom, and Dad all go home that evening, with plans to follow Dr. Inoue’s instructions to make the house wheelchair-accessible the next day. Yuki wants to know why they’re leaving Eiji at the hospital,  _ alone _ . But Mom and Dad are determined that the three of them all go, and that Eiji stays, and nobody is telling Yuki  _ why _ . Damned adults. With their stupid secrets. But she’ll help even if she’s peeved about having to be here at all. Everybody’s stressed, she won’t pile on top of that. 

Dr. Inoue had told them to watch out for narrow doorframes and wide turn areas, if they have any western-style doors in the house, which they do. All the doors upstairs are western, but Dad says they shouldn’t hinder wheelchair movement too much “because I never cut corners when I build,” he had said. They’re lucky there aren’t any stairs to reach the front door, or to the backyard, although Yuki doesn’t think Ash will be going back there too much in the coming weeks. The doctor had also told them that they might want to consider rearranging furniture if it’s super close together– like the coffee table in the Okumura’s living room or the furniture in Ash’s room. She had told the family to make things easy for Ash to grab out of a wheelchair, including food and clothes, and to consider how he’ll bathe and use the bathroom, depending on the type of bathroom setup they have.

On the one hand, that’s  _ several _ changes. On the other hand, the information feels underwhelming, for Yuki. Yuki operates on evidence and self-experience, so while she trusts Dr. Inoue as a doctor, she feels like the list Dr. Inoue gave the family reeks with an undeveloped understanding of how life in a wheelchair, even for three weeks or so, really is. She spends the drive home on search engines.  _ How to… DIY… For dummies… Step-by-step guide…  _

When the car pulls into the driveway, Yuki is already thinking about how much of their house they’ll have to rearrange. There’s no way anyone– even someone as talented as her brothers– could maneuver a wheelchair comfortably from the couch to the kitchen, and the rest of the house is similarly inaccessible. 

The first thing is the rugs– Yuki looked it up, rugs can get stuck in the wheels and stuff– so she says, “Mom, we gotta take out all the rugs. They’ll make it hard to roll around.”

“Oh!” Mom says, “I hadn’t thought of that.” And they spend some time after they set their stuff down rolling up the area rug in the living room and the rugs in the hallways and even the one in the kitchen next to the sink, and they stow them all away in the hall closet. 

Next up, they go into Ash’s room. They open his closet and Dad adjusts the tension rod holding his clothes (“we should buy him some nice new shirts,” Dad muses with a sour expression. “And socks,” Yuki adds, thinking about how cold her feet get at night when the covers slip away from her toes). Now, the rod is about chest-level for Yuki, and the hangers are at a perfectly reasonable height for her to grab, when she wheels a desk chair over to test. 

“Do you think the bed is too high?” Dad wonders, rolling back and forth a little in the desk chair.

“I think it’ll be alright,” Mom hums, “We might need to help him, just a little bit, the first few days. But it should be fine for just these few weeks.” She’s got a look in her eyes that Yuki has seen before, but doesn’t know quite how to interpret. Like she’s saying one thing but she’s thinking about something  _ almost  _ parallel, just intersecting at one point. 

Their bathroom is neither strictly “Japanese” nor “Western,” they’ve got whatever Dad felt like installing when he added the upstairs bathroom– which means a Japanese tub, floor, showerhead, and washing machine/dryer combo, but a Western toilet and sink layout (Yuki hadn’t known how distinct Japanese-style bathrooms were until Ash started teasing Eiji about it, and she hadn’t known how weird it was for a Japanese bathroom to have the sink, tub, and toilet in the same room until this internet search– she’s never been to a friend’s house because she doesn’t have any friends). The benefits of this one-room-holds-all bathroom is that it’s got enough space for Ash to move around in there. The unfortunate side effect is that, thanks to Yuki’s search, she knows that space to move is just one thing on the list of problems for mobility-impaired people in bathrooms. Ash can probably do without most of the additions– he can stand for a few seconds at a time, Dr. Inoue had said, and all of his limbs, ligaments, and bones are working just fine, so he can probably still bathe himself and use the bathroom unassisted– but Yuki cringes to think about how much more they might have had to change had that mugger gone just a few inches left… spine, kidney, bladder, intestines, lungs– 

“Yuki, we’re going downstairs now,” Mom hums. Yuki hadn’t realized how in her own head she’d been. Mom’s right, she can’t worry so much. Ash-nii is alright. He’s just using the wheelchair because they want the injury to heal properly. Just for a little while. She takes a breath and follows her parents downstairs, where they are bickering, in that surface-level, venomless way her parents do, about the furniture in the living room.

“I just think we should throw out the coffee table anyways,” Mom insists, “it’s really looking worn-down lately. We could get a new one when we want to,” Dad is still puckering his face at the idea. They’ve had this coffee table for as long as Yuki can remember, but Mom’s right. It definitely  _ looks _ like it’s survived two children by the skin of its teeth. 

“Why don’t we just push it against the far wall? It would give plenty of space,” Dad argues.

Mom gives Yuki a sideways, Cheshire grin, “Or you could build a new one with your favorite daughter?” Manipulating Dad by playing to what Yuki already enjoys. A smart move. Yuki smiles anyway. She doesn’t mind being part of the manipulation if she gets to use Dad’s handsaw. She was too little to hold it properly last time– when they made her that shelf to hold her video game consoles and cases– but she’s certainly big enough now!

When they finally have the house in order enough to be satisfied (and boy oh boy was the kitchen a struggle), they all get in the car to make one more stop at a very specific store before making themselves some dinner. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i bequeath unto yall: a less-angsty chapter!!!! :D  
> (i give my Friday-fic ppl a horrible cliffhanger, i have to balance it out by giving my Monday-fic ppl a nice break-- gotta mix this shit up ya know?)
> 
> BUT! I want to make it clear that I did more research than I care to admit to doing for the sake of a fanfiction for this particular plot-point, so if you or any of your loved ones is mobility impaired and has something they would like to see represented or something they want to correct me on, lemmeee knowwwwwww!!!!! The last thing I want is to create an interpretation of this type of issue that sucks/is disparaging/innacurate/just don't sit right w the people who, ya know, actually use wheelchairs for part of or all of their daily lives??? Anyway, sorry, accurate rep is something that i give a few too many shits about but i will stop ranting now. 
> 
> want to see where we going next?? check me out on tumbler B) [ https://www.tumblr.com/blog/bmgh-writing ]  
> ILYASM!!!!!
> 
> as always,   
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!!!!! :DDDDDD


	20. Awake, Alive, and Still Not Quite Ready

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context: 
> 
> Touya: my son who ain't my son but he's my son even though he's not legally or biologically my son but emotionally he's my son!!!!!!! how r u  
> Ash, tearing up: I'm fine.
> 
> Dr. Inoue: i am aware  
> Eiji, flabbergasted: ur AWARE????  
> Dr. Inoue: i. am. aware.  
> Eiji, awed: omg she's aware ⊙０⊙
> 
> Touya, not understanding a word of what's going on, filled with love: uwu  
> Dr. Inoue, also not understanding a word, also filled with love: yee

Touya comes to visit Ash on Tuesday, the day after they switch him to Dilaudid– the Okumura family had told Touya not to come before, even though he’d wanted to, because the morphine was making him so loopy. But Touya insisted on coming the moment Mom told him Ash would (probably) be lucid when he woke up next, he even brought some little buns that usually come off the kid’s menu. They’re not too spicy or hard to eat, and they don’t need to be refrigerated, so they’ll be ready for Ash whenever he wakes up. 

When Dr. Inoue comes back to check on Ash, Eiji asks if Touya can keep an eye on Ash and text him if he wakes up. Touya says sure thing. Eiji tells Dr. Inoue that he can tell her what he knows about Ash’s medical history now, if she’s got the time. Dr. Inoue says sure. They go down to the little cafe in one of the wings of the hospital and sit down at a table.

“I’ll only write down what you’re comfortable with,” Dr. Inoue promises, pulling out a clipboard and pen, “and what can be helpful for Ash.” Eiji nods nervously. Dr. Inoue gets nervous because he’s nervous. “Mr. Okumura, I want to make it clear: I’m not here as a psychologist, or even as a friend, per se, I’m here as a medical professional who wants to ensure Ash gets the best care he can.”

That does it. That releases the tension from Eiji’s shoulders. This woman isn’t here for him to tell everything that happened to, she’s here to help Ash. That’s all. Nothing crazy, nothing extra, nothing heavy. Just to help.

“He, um,” Eiji forces a laugh because it should be a funny thing to say– it will certainly be one of the easiest things he’ll say this afternoon, “He’s pretty careless with himself.” Dr. Inoue nods. He thinks hard about how to phrase this and then decides the truth will be easiest. “He used to be part of a gang– back in America. That’s going to make the rest of this make more sense.” Dr. Inoue writes that down. “His– uh, his fa– his  _ guardian _ was p-pretty abusive. Physically and sexually. I don’t know a whole lot of details, but this man was just… horrible. Ash probably has a lot of broken bones that didn’t heal quite right. He’s been shot,” Eiji has to think about it, keep track on his fingers, and it makes his skin want to escape the rest of his flesh, “three times? Just that I’ve seen. He’s been stabbed a few more– he only went to the hospital for one or two of those. There was a period of time where he was legally dead, and I don’t know what they did to him there. D-don’t…” Eiji’s breath stutters, “don’t… bind him… or, like, tie him down at all. He’s had, uh, he’s had bad experiences with being restrained– oh, and forced drug use. If you’re going to be giving him any new medication, please make sure someone he trusts is in the room with him. Maybe just have someone he trusts with him at all times– hospitals in general make him really nervous.” Eiji stops abruptly and fiddles with his sweater while Dr. Inoue finishes her little notes. 

When she looks up, there’s no pity in her eyes. No crocodile tears. No sympathetic half-smile or empathetic grimace. Just a politely placid expression and an invitation to continue, if there’s anything else to share. “If I can ask,” she begins cautiously, and Eiji nods to let her continue, “I had some personal concerns about Ash’s weight. Technically, he’s not underweight, but as someone who has treated a lot of anorexic patients… I have concerns. It’s one of the reasons I’m recommending he use a wheelchair for the coming weeks. Are there any gaps you can fill in about any history of eating disorders?”

“Oh.” Eiji breathes. He kind of knows the answer to this, but only what Ash has told him, and Ash had a dark look in his eyes when he told him– after all, this was what happened in that time just barely five months ago, when Eiji had to save Ash from Golzine. “It’s not anorexia,” he says first, because that much he knows, “it was–” how to explain this? “He refused to eat for a time because he had no other form of autonomy while he was held against his will by his guardian. We’re working on getting him back up to a healthy weight.” Eiji hopes the smile he plasters to his face at the end is enough to satisfy Dr. Inoue.

It must be, because she doesn’t press, just scribbles some notes down and waits for him to continue. To be honest, though, Eiji isn’t sure what else to say. He doesn’t know much about Ash’s medical history, in the big picture of it. 

“Oh, I should probably mention I think he’s got low blood sugar,” Eiji adds finally.

Dr. Inoue nods. “We did find that in the blood tests we ran, along with some anemia– that’s just iron deficiency. If there’s a history of sexual abuse, we can run some more in-depth tests to see if we need to be worried about any venereal diseases. As for the pre-existing injuries you’ve disclosed, most of those did show up in our examination and x-ray, and the only ones that may interfere with this injury are his ribs. It seems they’ve been broken and cracked several times and in several places, which may cause some additional discomfort when trying to get strength back in the surrounding muscle tissue– they’re totally healed now though. You’re probably the only one who will be able to tell that they’re not perfectly normal.” Eiji doesn’t do as good a job as he would have hoped to in hiding the confusion in his expression at that last bit. “Mr. Okumura,” Dr. Inoue says with just a little smile, “I’m aware of your relationship with Ash.”

Eiji hopes his face isn’t as red as he thinks it is, but it’s a lost hope. 

The smile drops, and a grimace rises in its place. “We’ve had a similar problem with Dr. Sasaki two years ago when she refused to treat a head trauma wound for a young woman after the woman’s girlfriend arrived in the waiting room. If I had the power to fire her for this behavior, I would, but my superiors argue that she’s a wonderful doctor for all of the other patients she treats.”

“How horrible,” Eiji murmurs. His skin itches when he thinks about the cold way she treated Ash, and his whole family. How could a doctor stand to treat someone so callously over something so superficial and uncontrollable? Eiji feels his spine contract with a disgusted little shiver. 

Making a little apologetic gesture with her hands, Dr. Inoue continues, “I identify as asexual myself, so you can see why I take this to heart– and believe me, Mr. Okumura, I won’t let your partner, you, or your family be subjected to any more bigotry as long as you’re all in my care.”

That moves a little chunk of the weight Eiji hadn’t realized weighed his soul down so heavily, and Eiji feels this smile come naturally, and grow wider, and he says, “Thank you, Dr. Inoue. Thank you so much.”

Touya knows that Ash is awake when the heart monitor spikes just a few beats faster per minute than normal for a few seconds before returning to a resting rate. Ash’s eyes don’t open immediately, but then he smells the buns Touya brought and hears Touya whistling a happy little tune he’d heard on the radio during his drive to the hospital while he does his nonograms on his cellphone. His eyes open with the precision of one of Touya’s vegetable knives (which is to say, pretty precisely), and then take in the room as slowly as oil through a strainer (which is to say, not very slowly at all). 

After all that time working with Ash in the kitchen, and seeing him off-shift too, Touya knows to let Ash start the conversation. He gets too squirrelly if he thinks you’ve been watching him. 

“Touya?” Ash eventually murmurs, his voice a little more hoarse than sounds comfortable. “Where is everyone?”

Touya smiles slowly and sets his phone down. “Oh, just all over the place. Eiji is downstairs with that nice Dr. Inoue lady, and the rest of the family is at home sleeping in a bed for once.” Since Ash just nods, chewing on the information without really responding, Touya keeps on filling up the silence. “Your mom and dad are going to make Yuki actually go back to school starting tomorrow– she’s already missed two days now– but that girl won’t have it. She’s really determined to be here with you, and she says the schoolwork is too easy for her anyhow. It probably is anyway… too easy for her, I mean.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get the carrots,” Ash whispers.

“Ash, if you think I care more about the carrots than I do about you, I will be very upset.”

“But, if I had been smart enough–”

“You were plenty smart enough. You were smart enough to call for help and not die. That’s all I’m concerned about. Ash, you couldn’t have stopped that mugger from targeting you any more than you could stop a tornado from touching down where it pleases. Don’t you blame yourself over what someone else did. Now, do you want some water? Your voice sounds like it hurts.”

Ash nods. He doesn’t know how else to respond. He’s still not very good at knowing what to do when someone dumps their love into your lap.

“Great, I’ll ask Eiji to bring some up with him.” 

And Touya sends off a text:

_ “He’s up and at ‘em. Seems to be in better spirits than what you were all warning me about before.” _

Less than two minutes later, Eiji all but slams the door open– what a dramatic young man– and sets a water bottle on the table before crushing Ash’s shoulders in a hug that is readily returned. 

“ **Aslan Jade Callenreese, I will kill you if you ever do that again!”**

**“Which part? I can’t exactly help the stabbing part, Eiji, he came up from behind me.”**

Turning to the doctor who followed Eiji in, Touya introduces himself. “Name’s Touya Touma. Nice to meet you– thank you for taking care of Ash.”

“Dr. Inoue Mitsuki, and of course.”

Listening to the excited bubble of English gibberish, Touya smiles fondly and asks, “Dr. Inoue, do you understand a word of English?”

“Not a word.”

“Me neither.”

  
  


“Hey, Eiji,” Ash asks, “how long have I been here?” Dr. Inoue has gone off to check on her other patients– she works mostly in the ICU, apparently. Touya has gone back to open up for the dinner rush. Mom, Dad, and Yuki are still at home getting the house in order for Ash’s wheelchair… which Eiji needs to tell him about sooner than later.

Eiji checks the date on his phone, and mutters to himself for a minute about  _ if the surgery was on Saturday _ , and finally answers, “Almost four days.”

“Why don’t I remember  _ any _ of it?”

Eiji rubs the pad of his thumb along the lines and on the edges of the callouses where Ash’s gun used to sit. “You were already pretty out of it by the time the ambulance got here. Then they had you on morphine until yesterday. It didn’t work super great for you, so they switched you to Dilaudid.”

Eiji’s story is the glossiest shimmer of what happened, but that’s fine. Ash doesn’t need to know that he held a hospital room at knifepoint– that’s water under the bridge now. And he didn’t say anything too concerning...kind of… 

All Ash responds with is, “Ugh, I hate morphine.  **Golzine used to lace my food with that stuff sometimes when I misbehaved.** ” The code-switching between Japanese and English barely even registers for Eiji, who just responds in English.

“ **I don’t think we talk often enough about how much that man deserved a worse death than he got.** ” It’s a half-joke, and the other half is a jaw muscle tight enough to give Eiji a migraine.

But Ash steals both of his own hands back and presses his fingers into Eiji’s face, smoothing out the furrowed brow and heavy frown. “Eiji,” Ash murmurs, “ **sunshine,”** he smiles **, “darling, baby, honey,”** he laughs when Eiji can’t keep frowning, keeps insisting  _ what is this, what are you doing,  _ **“sugarcakes, love,** darling,” that last endearment is the Japanese one that Eiji’s parents sometimes call each other, it makes Eiji finally laugh too. 

“What,  **angel** ?” Eiji demands, still not quite done being stressed out and worried and angry about it all.

“ **I love you** . I love you,” Ash says. 

“ **I love you too, even when you scare the shit out of me by almost dying** .”

Ash moves one finger off of Eiji’s face to poke his nose. “Alright, okay, what’s the other thing you’re not telling me?”

“What do you mean?” Eiji snaps, kind of surprised, because he hadn’t even been thinking about Ash’s horrible reaction to the morphine or how close he really came to dying or what Dr. Inoue’s colleagues found all over Ash’s body or what Eiji told Dr. Inoue or what Mom said about needing to have a talk or about the wheelchair Ash will have to use for a few weeks because his ribs have been cracked and broken so many times and he’s still so thin that the doctor doesn’t want him standing unassisted too much while his  _ goddamned stab wound heals _ . 

Ash isn’t smiling so much anymore, but he doesn’t look angry and tense like he did on the morphine either. “You wear your stress like a t-shirt, darling,” he tells Eiji softly.

Eiji decides that, if he has to start somewhere, he’ll start with the things that won’t bring up the past. “Dr. Inoue said you’re going to have to use a wheelchair for a few weeks when you go home.”

“ **A what?** ”

“ **A wheelchair. Just most of the time. She said she didn’t want your stitches reopening every time you sit down or stand up.** ” Eiji doesn’t include the part where the only reason they might do that is because Ash’s ribs are in the wrong spot, just a little, in some places. 

“ **What else?** ” Ash presses. Eiji can’t look him in the eye, so Ash adds, “ **Sunshine, you look like death warmed over, and you didn’t even have a near-death experience. Talk to me.** ”

“Yuki said the same thing,” Eiji chuckles drily. Ash finally removes both hands from Eiji’s face and instead uses them to pull Eiji, uncomfortably, onto the hospital bed with him. Eiji is tired enough to let himself be pulled, and they both finally feel a few vertebrae unlock in the relief of still being able to be this close. “Mom said we have to talk to her about America.” Ash stiffens, those few vertebrae locking themselves right back up until Eiji hastily continues, “Not now, but she wants us to tell her when we’re ready.”

Both of them curl into each other a little more. They’re not ready. Not yet. Right now, they just sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> goooooooodddd afternoon my good buds i am coming to you live from the bathtub because i am..... FOSTERING KITTENS!!!!!! I have a momma (Nicki) and two babies (Eminem and Dre) (yes, I did name them, why do u ask?) and they are adorable and kind of feral (Nicki had NO CLUE how to play with the toys I got her), if you want to hear more about the babies, imma post abt them on Tumblr tomorrow uwu
> 
> but!! haha i have no more prewritten chapters, I'm like half done w next week's and it's finals time for the next two or so weeks for me babieeeee (help. please.) so.... good luck to us all :,D
> 
> if u wanna hear more about what's going on in the future of this fic, and what else I'm working on, find me on Tumblr: [ https://www.tumblr.com/blog/bmgh-writing ]
> 
> as always <3  
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!!! :DDDDD


	21. Open eyes, tired eyes, worried eyes, happy eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context:
> 
> Ash: :D  
> Eiji: :D  
> Yuki: :D  
> Junko: :D  
> Tomoya: :D
> 
> Author: Q~Q

Ash creaks his eyes open like rusty shutters on a derelict building, but it feels good. He can feel his consciousness confidently swimming in his brain, instead of leaking out the side of his head. He doesn’t have to take several minutes to remember where he is like yesterday, he’s just awake, and the lights are on in his head, perfectly normal. He doesn’t panic, because he knows where he is because Eiji is still snuggled up next to him in the hospital bed and Yuki is insisting that she is  _ not being that loud _ (she is though, hence Ash’s awakening). When he chances opening his eyes, his first sight is Eiji’s face. It’s a beautiful sight to wake up to, even if he still looks exactly as exhausted as he did when he was awake, and his brow isn’t all the way unfurrowed. Without thinking, Ash smooths out the crease with his thumb from the hand that isn’t pinned down by the slope of Eiji’s neck.

This action was a little short-sighted, of course, because it alerts everyone in the room to his consciousness. For a second, nobody moves.

Then, cautiously, in slowly-enunciated English, Yuki asks, “ **Ash, do you remember where you are?** ”

Knowing he must have done something stupid enough to warrant this question while he was under the influence of morphine, Ash answers with, “ **Your accent is improving a lot, Yuki.** ”

This must be the correct answer, because Ma, Dad, and Yuki all smile and come up to the side of the bed to give him awkward half-hugs– truthfully, it’s more affection than Ash even knows what to do with. Eiji’s the only person who’s ever really hugged him and meant it before. Even Shorter wasn’t a big hugger, just once in a while if he wanted to catch Ash off-guard. 

“Shh,” Ash murmurs, “Eiji’s still asleep. He looks exhausted.” Running his fingers through Eiji’s hair, Ash remembers last time they had occasion to sleep in the same bed– that night when Eiji dragged him (or, more accurately, wheeled him– he’d been in a wheelchair then, and he supposes he will be again very soon) out of hell and almost died doing it. Unconsciously, Ash’s finger finds that jagged scar under Eiji’s eye. They’d both been fucked up then. Neither could have imagined– even if they’d had the time to imagine in between the hiding and fighting– so much love in one room with them. 

The family backs off a little. Ma laughs softly, and Ash thinks he sees her wipe her eyes, but ignores it because he wouldn’t know what to make of it if she were. 

“How are you feeling today, Ash?” Dad asks, keeping his voice low and gentle. 

“A lot better,” Ash replies. Compared to previous stabbings– hell, even gunshots– he’s feeling genuinely a lot better than he normally would by this point. Maybe that’s the intravenous pain meds they’re pumping him with. He should panic at that, being filled with meds, which he hasn’t personally researched and investigated, like a paper cup being filled with soda that has the wrong ratio of carbonation and syrup. But he can’t bring himself to panic. Not now, surrounded by Eiji asleep and Ma smiling like that and Dad talking quiet for his sake and Yuki bright-eyed and ecstatic to see him. Maybe some of that is the drugs. Who cares. 

Nobody here would ever let anything happen to him.

They’re safe. 

Ash is safe. 

He falls back asleep to the sound of Yuki saying “Aw man, I wanted to give him his present,” and Ma saying “Let him sleep, Yuki,” and Dad saying “You can give it to him when he wakes up again.”

Dr. Inoue had said the more Ash rests, the better, Junko reasons. This isn’t a cause for concern. Still, seeing any of her children in a hospital bed, with the hospital’s collapsible wheelchair folded up against the wall, ready to go home with them tomorrow, with an IV that still hasn’t been removed yet because the doctor doesn’t want to risk anything with Ash’s low blood sugar– all of it is just… so much. Junko has barely slept in the four days since Ash got hurt– it practically paralyzes her to think about how scared Ash must have been, and Eiji too, getting that phone call– how difficult must their history have been for their reaction to be so clinical… It makes Junko’s whole body ache in sympathy. She can’t even imagine. When she was younger, her sister used to pinch her arm every time Junko got a bad grade on a test, but it still took her until her second year of high school to stop screeching every time she got pinched, even when she knew it was coming. That had been playful sibling banter and it took her almost twelve years to stop flinching. This was near-death, and Ash hardly seems to have batted an eye. 

What does that to a person? What does that to someone so young?

Junko glances at Tomoya. She knows. 

But she doesn’t want it for Ash. Not Ash, who’s just eighteen years old, who shouldn’t have even finished school yet. Not Ash, who holds Eiji like he’s something precious and looks at him like something marvelous. Not Ash, who will stay up with Yuki for hours upon hours to help her beat a boss, or just when she feels lonely. Not Ash, who lights up Tomoya’s eyes when he laughs. Not Ash, who cooks with Junko when they can’t decide what to make for dinner, or who plays board games with her that even Eiji and Yuki have decided they’re too old to play. Not for any of her kids. Why did this have to happen? Why does Eiji, when he thinks Junko is asleep or not listening, whisper about how this was inevitable?

“Darling,” Tomoya murmurs, she turns to face him more completely, They’re waiting for a coffee order at the little cafe on the ground floor of the hospital. He smiles at her and takes her hands in his. Junko melts into her husband. They don’t say anything, and the barista making their drinks doesn’t say anything either– it must be a pretty normal part of their job anyway, seeing people dealing with the overwhelmingly undealable. Running his fingers over her scalp, Tomoya eventually whispers, “I know, darling. I know.” She nods into his shoulder. She doesn’t need to explain, and she’s never been more grateful for the love of her life, just being there for her. One hand releases Junko’s shoulders to wipe the tears from Tomoya’s eyes. “Remember when you first met me? And when I first met you?” And she nods. And he says, “But look at us now, darling.” And she nods again. And he continues, “They can have that. We can help them have that.”

A little awkwardly, the barista calls out their order. A little awkwardly, Tomoya grabs both cups without dislodging Junko from her spot pressed to his chest. He nods his thanks, and the barista waves him off, understanding. 

When they reach their room– because it can’t be  _ just _ Ash’s room, since they’re all spending just as much time there anyway– they hear the conversation through the door before they open it.

“– I must have been out for a whole month if you’ve already beaten Akuroga with your mages-only campaign party.” That’s Ash, teasing.

“I  _ did _ though!” Yuki insists, “I had lots of extra time since Mom and Dad didn’t make me go to school because you got stabbed.” And that would be how Yuki puts it, no beating around the bush for her. 

“You  _ stayed home _ for–  **how many days? Two? Three?** – Eiji, you let them let her stay home for three days!”

“Hey, I was  _ distraught _ ,” Eiji defends himself, “excuse you, Mr. too-dangerous-for-my-own-good.”

“Oh, this is  _ hardly _ the first time you’ve seen me stabbed,” Ash counters, a laugh on the edge of his lips. 

Though they’re still listening in from outside the door, Junko and Tomoya can practically see Eiji make some frustrated gesture with his hands. “I was distraught then too, you idiot!”

“He makes a fair point, you know,” Yuki chimes back in. “It’s within a boyfriend’s rights to be distraught when his boyfriend has been stabbed.”

Openly chuckling now, Ash makes his voice melodramatic to say, “I’m being teamed up on! This is unfair.”

Only then do Junko and Tomoya make themselves known with a flourish and a laugh and a “What  _ are _ you kids talking about?”

They all give a resounding, childish, “ _ Nothing… _ ” which the parents give them, since they heard it all from outside the door anyway, and they didn’t want to make a big fuss about something the kids were clearly using humor to cope with. There are some pies that you just don’t need to stick your fingers into.

“Are you all going to be ready to go back home tomorrow?” Tomoya asks the group.

Ash groans, “More than anything! Dr. Inoue is nice and all, but this place smells like antiseptic and death.”

Maybe there’s something to that, because Eiji squeezes Ash’s hand. 

Ash gives Eiji a wink. “ **Are you gonna carry me around all the time now?** ”

Eiji blushes, “Do you want me to?”

Yuki bursts out laughing, and Junko laughs with her just to release the anxious debris clinging to her ribcage. The kids are alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys i am so sorry the chapter is so short I'm SORRY ok??? Its finals week and im picking colleges and entering financial aid info and existing in quarantine in a house of 5-8 people (depending on the day, not including 7 animals). help. I'm not like breaking down but like the wheels are starting to fall off this car you know?? ヽ(ﾟ∀｡)ﾉ
> 
> but genuinely i hope u like this chapter i am now writing on a week-by-week basis, so we'll see how that goes....... at least this is my last week of finals!! Then i am freeeee from community college (hitting up u of Iowa next, see ya there ;D) i love you all, next week's update should be (hopefully) longer, and as always check me out on Tumblr!! [ tumblr.com/blog/bmgh-writing ]
> 
> thanks so much everybody!!!!! <3333  
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!!!! :DDDD


	22. Really, we just care what's for dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context:
> 
> Yuki: STEP ON THE GAS!!!!!  
> Mom: no  
> Dad, whispering: (step on the gas!)
> 
> Ash, vibing: :)  
> Okumura family, also vibing: :))))  
> Ash, vibing less: :/  
> Okumura family, blissfully unaware: :)))  
> Ash, no longer vibing: :(  
> Eiji: :0 ... umu  
> Okumura family: don't worry, we'll hold ur spot in the vibe sesh.
> 
> Tomoya: >.>  
> Junko: don't even think abt it  
> Tomoya: >~>  
> Junko: ffs NO  
> Tomoya, grabbing his power tools and a sheet of drywall: >u>  
> Yuki: i wanna swing the SLEDGEHAMMER :DDD  
> Junko: this is getting out of hand, now there's two of them!!

Dr. Inoue gives her wholehearted support of Ash going home after another day at the hospital, with the stipulation of an added wheelchair and a ream of home-care instructions. Mostly, everyone is just excited to be able to go home– Ash more than anyone else. He’s hated hospitals since he knew what a hospital  _ was _ . Not that it helped that his first-ever visit was because Marvin went too far once and didn’t want to tell Golzine. 

This hospital stay had been decidedly different than its predecessors, but that’s not enough to overwrite the past.

The wheelchair makes Ash nervous too– Eiji knows why, and he keeps Ash talking all the way down the hall, down the elevator, down the blue arrows painted on the floor of the lobby, down into the parking structure, and he picks him up to put him in the back seat of Dad’s car. Yuki had wanted to push Ash at top speed through the hallways in the hospital, but Ma told her, “We don’t want to bump into anyone, Yuki.” Dad had winked and said, “wait until we get home.” 

The drive home is lively, everyone is clamoring to promote  _ their _ idea for dinner tonight– Yuki wants mackerel, Eiji wants katsudon, Dad wants fried rice, Mom isn’t sure what she wants (“as long as there’s dessert after,” she says), Ash is just excited to get back into the kitchen. 

When the engine stills in the driveway, Ash realizes things might not be the way they were right away when he opens the door of the backseat and sticks his legs out and tries to stand on them. Of course, he collapses instantly, right back into the backseat of the car. Nobody saw it happen, but Ash  _ felt _ the way his body just… didn’t respond. Mutinied, even. That hasn’t happened to him in years. Not since he was a kid.

Ma gets the foldout wheelchair– and she needs help from Yuki to get it open– and Eiji has to lift Ash again to set him in it. They start to wheel their way inside. Something creeps over Ash. Insidious. Sticky. Cold. It burrows under Ash’s skin and infects his flesh with a necrotic feeling. His ears get hotter and hotter and decide to take a swim. His vision blurs, doing its goddamn best to get away from him– and Ash can’t blame it but he will because he’s getting scared scared scared he can’t– he can’t  _ go _ – he can’t move his own body, he can’t escape if he needs to he’s stuck in this goddamned chair like a fucking toddler with all the fucking drugs they’ve got him on the fucking bastards but that’s okay, he can deal with that. He doesn’t have a weapon. What does he have? He’s got nothing. They’ve done this before– they know how to trap him: put him on these fucking drugs so he can’t move real good and they take his fucking gun and his knives if he had any– did he have any? Why can’t he remember? He can always remember, even with those fucking drugs he ain’t got shit if he ain’t thinkin straight he’s gotta keep it together so they don’t fuck him up too bad cause if he ain’t lookin like he could rock your shit then they’ll rock his shit and they don’t wear condoms the sick fucks.

“ **_Don’t_ ** **fucking** **_touch me!_ ** ” 

Someone picks him up anyways, he can’t see for shit who the fuck it was. It’s just him alone in his fucking head, ain’t nobody else to depend on, just how it’s always been. The skin on his body wants to peel off and ditch him on a street corner like a baby hooker’s dignity when she’s looking for a line, and Ash ain’t got nothing to go off of, and he can’t move his own body and he can’t see out his own goddamn eyes, and he can’t remember  _ shit _ . A fever dream.

Shit, where even is he?

Someone’s still holding him– not in the fucked up way, but  _ holding  _ him, both arms, like a goddamned infant. Not off the ground neither, he’s laying down somewhere. Their forehead is against his– they’re actually  _ looking _ at his  _ face _ , like they  _ care _ about him or something– and he can smell their breath, but it doesn’t reek like alcohol, cigarettes, ecstasy tablets, and cum– it smells like tea and eraser-tips and

“ **Eiji, do you still use that lavender-flavored toothpaste?** ”

“ **Yeah,** ” Eiji replies softly. 

They’re both laying on Eiji’s bed, on top of the comforter. Eiji is wrapped around Ash with both arms, blinking at him. 

“ **Did I freak out?** ” 

“ **Yeah.** ”

Ash buries his face in Eiji’s sweater. “ **Did… Did I scare Ma? Or Dad or Yuki?** ”

“ **Not really. They just thought you needed some quiet time.** ”

After another several minutes of Eiji smoothing circles into Ash’s back, he asks, “ **Do you want to talk about it?** ”

“ **I should be tougher than this,** ” Ash whispers fiercely, **“I should be stronger, Eiji.** ” Eiji moves his hand from Ash’s back to cup the crown of his head tenderly. “ **But you put me in that chair and I was back, with Golzine, and I was scared ‘cause I couldn’t move my body–** ”

Shushing him, Eiji murmurs, “It’s okay. You’re alright. He’s dead, remember? He can’t hurt you, or anyone else. You’re  **safe** . We’re  **safe** .” 

They take that comfort– from his death, from their life, from each other. Nothing can hurt them here, laying on top of Eiji’s comforter in his room in Japan, a whole ocean plus another continent away from New York and the scenes that painted Ash’s life and Eiji’s year with red like blood and blue like fear and the bone-shattering  _ pop _ of gunfire. They’re safe from it here. Even if Yuki has yet to resume her mid-game profanity, and Ma and Dad are talking too quietly for them to hear it through the floorboards, that’s comfort. They take that comfort and they build it up around themselves for a long while, until the sun starts to sink and begins to throw golden beams at them through Eiji’s blinds.

“I should go make dinner, huh?” Ash finally mutters. 

“You don’t have to.”

“But I wanna.”

“I’ll help.”

In the kitchen, Yuki and Tomoya have been bickering for the past half hour about whether mackerel or fried rice is the ultimate dinner idea. Junko has been worrying over whether or not Ash will be able to cook, even with their makeshift kitchen renovations. 

Tomoya assures her that it’ll be fine– dinner tonight is the trial run anyhow, “So if we run into a problem,” Tomoya says, “we just add that to the to-do list for me and Yuki.” The small changes they’d made to the kitchen had still taken most of the day that they spent at home wheelchair-proofing the house, and Tomoya and Yuki were really having a blast with it. 

They can’t undo Ash needing a wheelchair, Tomoya’s logic runs, so they may as well make the experience as positive as they can. Ergo, Tomoya and Yuki are planning to make the whole house as wheelchair-accessible as possible, even if it’s just for the next month. Afterward, they’ll have a fun time changing it all back, if they want. 

Part of the therapy Tomoya went to when he and Junko started talking about marriage and kids involved some positivity training, but Tomoya found that it helped so much that he now has a hard time ignoring the “bright sides” of every situation, even the objectively horrible ones, like Ash’s injury. He knows that it’s awful, and he would trade just about anything to undo it, but he can’t, so instead Tomoya just smiles and recognizes that this gives him a wonderful excuse to use his vacation hours to spend more time with his family, and to do some projects with Yuki, and to sleep next to his wife at night, and to see Eiji carrying Ash down the stairs and setting him down in the wheelchair on the landing while Ash tells him something in English that makes Eiji turn bright red and Yuki crackles with laughter. 

No, you can’t change the bad things, so you may as well love your life the way it is– pain and all. 

When Ash wheels himself over to the kitchen, his whole expression crinkles. He takes a second to spin his head to look at Eiji, and Eiji gestures to Yuki and Tomoya, and Ash glares back at them, and he looks like he might cry. 

“Ash,” Yuki jokes, “we’re all going to have a hard time believing your tough-guy facade if you cry every time we do something for you.”

“Let me cry in peace,  **you gremlin** ,” Ash replies wetly. 

The kitchen isn’t necessarily unrecognizable, but it’s certainly noticeably different. All of the pots and pans, which used to be in the cabinet below the stove, have been hung on a rack against the wall next to the pantry, and the cabinet itself has been demo’d to make room for the wheelchair to slide easily underneath, so Ash can still reach the stove. All of the spices have been repositioned into a tiered lazy susan on the counter next to the stove, instead of in a high-up cabinet. Bowls have been relocated to an easier-reach drawer underneath what used to be the cutlery drawer, but the cutlery has been organized into some nice little jars that Junko had a wonderful time picking out at a home goods store, and the drawer removed and replaced with a nice pullout cutting board that sits at a slightly lower level– actually, they apparently cut it closer than they thought, because the armrests on the wheelchair almost brush the bottom of the cutting board. Most of the counters are alright in height, because Tomoya custom-built them for Junko, who’s shorter than normal, and Ash is taller than normal, but there’s definitely still the problem of reaching areas like the stove (which they mostly solved) and the sink (which is still a problem, because you can’t change the plumbing in a day). 

It’s a pretty visually dramatic change, since the stovetop is the centerpiece of the kitchen. The stove is electric, the only updated appliance since Tomoya built the kitchen twenty years ago. He’s really been thinking that it’s time to give the kitchen a full remodel, but there’s just never been a good time before– but now? When he’s already using his paid vacation hours, spending some time at home, and has as good a reason as any to start that renovation? Tomoya’s power tools, packed neatly into the garage, are calling his name. 

“I see that look, Tomoya,” Junko mutters, more than a little suspiciously, from her spot across from him at the kitchen table. “We are  _ not _ adding a third floor to this house.”

“Oh, but why not?” Tomoya replies dreamily, jokingly, “Our family is growing, it’s only natural the house grows with us!”

Junko sniffs, “Then you’d better have that roof back on before the end of the day. I do  _ not _ want the early summer bugs finding their way inside– or the late spring rains.”

As opposed to leaning forward, Tomoya stands up and makes his way around the table to lean down and plant a kiss on Junko’s head. “I won’t add a third story, darling,” he reassures her, “maybe just a sunroom, while I’ve got the time.” He snaps a cute little wink her way, and she rolls her eyes at him lovingly. 

Meanwhile, Yuki is excitedly showing Ash all the changes, and asking him if he can reach everything okay, and telling him exactly which parts she helped with.

“I got to swing the sledgehammer!” she is emphatic to announce. “And Mom picked out these cute little jars for the silverware, but Dad did a lot of it.”

“ **Holy shit** , this might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me–” Ash murmurs, holding one of Eiji’s hands in a tight grip, “ **Eiji, did I ever tell you about when Shorter tried to make me a pair of crutches, ‘cause we were both so dirt fuckin’ poor that we couldn’t buy any?** ”

“The hospital didn’t give you any?” Yuki inquires, nose wrinkling.

“No,” Ash answers, “we didn’t have any insurance. One nurse tried to be nice and sneak us a pair, but her supervisor said ‘ **They’re just some gangster kids, don’t waste the crutches** ’ so we didn’t end up getting them.”

“How awful,” Eiji sympathizes.

“What a  **bitch** ,” Yuki mutters.

“Yuki,” Junko intervenes, “you know that your mother doesn’t know much English, yes?”

“Yeah, Mom, I know.”

“Yes, dear, well, did you know there are a few English words that I  _ do _ know? Like, for instance, ‘ **bitch’** ?”

Ash and Eiji snicker, and Yuki’s ears go red. “Sorry, Mom,” she whispers.

“Just thought you should know,” Junko chuckles. 

Tomoya asks Ash if he can reach the stove okay, and Ash shows him that yes, he can, thank you so much, and Tomoya asks if that means Ash can make his excellent fried rice tonight, and Eiji says no, katsudon, and Yuki says no, mackerel. 

Ash makes fried rice and mackerel– after Eiji loses at rock-paper-scissors– and promises to make katsudon tomorrow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahaahah i'm getting there guys i got straight As we VIBIN vibin i wrote this yesterday, so we r reaching our goals i promise i will be getting more ahead now that school is out and i got the time, but in the meantime here is today's chapter, im going to pull my bright pink cupcakes out of the oven and watch Ponyo with my siblings. uwu 
> 
> as always,  
> check me out on Tumblr to see where we're heading next! [ tumblr.com/blog/bmgh-writing ]  
> and  
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!! :DDDD


	23. closer, closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context:
> 
> Eiji: hmmmmmmmm -_-  
> Eiji: hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm -_-  
> Eiji: is my boyfriend doing something stupid that will hurt him again?  
> Eiji: hmmm ú_ú  
> Eiji: I'd better check >_>
> 
> *meet the Robinsons reference*  
> Yuki: they all hated me.  
> some weirdo: hey Yuki! :D cool binder! :DDD
> 
> author: *weakly throws up peace sign before collapsing like a distressed Elizabethan damsel*

When Eiji creeps out of bed that first night home from the hospital, it’s not with nightmares– unless you call a small bladder a nightmare. He does his business, pokes his head into Yuki’s room to try and convince her to go to bed– “it’s one in the morning and you’ve got school tomorrow!”– and then figures that he’ll check to make sure Ash is asleep too. He should be: Dr. Inoue said the pain medication he’s supposed to take before bed will make him drowsy. 

Still, Eiji has every right to be somewhat paranoid at the moment, even over little things like this, so he says to himself as he pops Ash's door open and peeks inside. Comfortingly, Ash is asleep, but something like instinct pulls Eiji farther into the room until he’s right next to Ash’s bed, noticing that something is wrong. Ash is shaking, tense, and sweating. There’s a spot of blood on his shirt. 

It’s to Eiji’s credit that he only panics somewhat, shaking Ash awake just a little more desperately than necessary, saying his name just a little bit louder than a whisper.

“ **Ash! Ash! Wake up, you’re tearing your stitches.** ”

Green eyes wrinkle open blearily. “ **Wha–? Eiji, I’m fine** .”

“No,  **you just think you’re fine because of the medicine** .” 

Grumbling, Ash moves to pull up his shirt– probably to reassure Eiji and say “I told you so”– but then he sees that the blood is already staining his t-shirt and he grumbles some more and says to himself, “ **Dammit** .” Then, to Eiji, he says, “ **That’s some damn good medicine.** ”

“It’s pretty strong, huh?” Eiji jokes. He lifts Ash up with both arms (before he can do something stupid to aggravate his stitches even more, like walking) and carries him to the bathroom. “If even  _ you _ ’re affected by it.” 

They work together to get Ash’s shirt off– they really should have thought to have him wear a button-up pajama shirt– and Eiji puts it in the sink. Cold water seeps into it, over it, around it to dilute the stain; the stream is briefly interrupted when Eiji uses it to soak a washcloth, which he uses to wipe off the little trickles of blood leaking from tiny tears in the new-formed scar tissue, a delicate mesh of latticework in balsa wood. 

Ash leans on Eiji while he works. Eiji thinks it’s a relief that the medication is working this well– since he knows that Golzine would put him on veritable horse tranquilizers and Ash would still be walking around ending up in fights (he’s wondering if the difference is that Ash isn’t fighting the medication this time).

“It doesn’t look like you tore the stitches,” Eiji announces quietly, “that’s good.”

Humming affirmatively into Eiji’s chest, Ash seems barely even awake. That makes it difficult for Eiji to grab the extra-large adhesive bandages from the medicine cabinet, but he manages, and he smooths one on top of the stitches. 

It’s wild to think that this is the body of someone who has killed so many people. Never needlessly, never without remorse that creeps into his bones and leaks from his eyes, but he  _ has _ killed, and Eiji looks at Ash’s body and just sees Ash, kind and loving and funny and sometimes a stubborn asshole, but it’s just  _ Ash _ . All the little scars that should amount to pity and horror and maybe even disgust don’t phase Eiji. When he sees this, even if he hasn’t seen it very often, he sees Ash, not the things that Ash has done. 

Out of curiosity, his fingers poke at the bottom of Ash’s ribcage, to see if his ribs really are out of place. Maybe to someone else, it wouldn’t be noticeable. But, as Dr. Inoue promised, the awkward, jagged ridges in Ash’s lowest ribs stick out like mountains and ravines to Eiji’s careful fingers. 

Neither of them gets any warning before Eiji’s tears drip onto the bathroom counter and mix with the bloody water that he’ll have to clean up in the morning. “Ash, I love you so much.  **I love you** ,” he whispers. He’s trying to keep his voice low, controlled through the cyclone of emotions sucking him up, up, until he’s falling through the sky. It still comes out shredded.

Two thin, strong arms wrap tighter around Eiji’s torso. “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?” Ash asks. 

But Eiji doesn’t trust his voice to stay even and steady like they both need it to be, so he just turns off the faucet, scoops Ash back up into his arms, and walks them both into his room in silence. The moment they’re under the covers, they both fall back asleep. 

Yuki goes to bed after Eiji yells at her about it because, logically, she knows that school is important. She  _ could _ get the highest grades in the class on twenty minutes of sleep and plain rice, but that doesn’t make those circumstances ideal. So she goes to bed when her stupid big brother tells her to, and she wakes up at six, eats breakfast, packs herself some lunch (since she’s up before Mom today), and takes the train three stops to her high school– Takeko Nakano High School. 

She’s in class early enough to talk politely with her homeroom teacher– Mr. Murata– about the weather and how was the homework. Mr. Murata is a little slow on the uptake for Yuki to really enjoy talking with him much, but he’s nice enough. As the rest of her class files in, Yuki takes her seat, third from the front in the row closest to the door. She sits through three boring lectures on English (more conjugation today, ew), Biology (animal classifications), and Math (something about factoring, Yuki was too busy finishing the homework the teacher had assigned for the following night to take the notes). Yuki didn’t pass notes with the other kids. She didn’t smile at them or whisper with them. She drew cute little flowers on her paper when she had finished the day’s homework, and she stared blankly at the board. When the teacher called on her, she answered the questions correctly without really looking at the board or hearing what was asked of her. 

All of it, too damn easy– except English conjugation, but even that she was understanding. All of the teachers used so many words for such simple concepts and made it all sound so confusing when it was actually really simple.  _ Yuki _ could teach it better than this, and she hasn’t even finished the class– hell, even  _ Ash _ could teach better than those stupid teachers, and he never made it past fifth grade! Yuki could watch every syllable from the teacher’s lips float into one ear of any of her classmates and fall out the other ear the moment the board is erased. No wonder they aren’t learning anything. 

Lunch finally arrives, and Yuki both looks forward to it and dreads it. On the one hand, freedom from the mind-numbingly stupid lectures. On the other, sitting alone somewhere, in silence, eating her lunch like a pariah. Technically, she is a pariah, but she doesn’t enjoy acting like one. And after one of those bullies reported Yuki’s handheld gaming console, the student council got on her ass and she couldn’t bring it to school anymore. So. Alone. Pariah. No games to keep her company.

All that, and Yuki can feel eyes on her neck, squeezing and squeezing– no. The classroom won’t do for lunch today. She knows already that the cafeteria would be worse. She quietly exits the classroom and heads up the stairs for the roof. Hardly anyone eats on the roof. Even the loners don’t usually like it because it’s so windy up there, but Yuki knows that if you sit between the wall of the room housing the stairwell and the air-conditioning unit, it’s not bad at all. 

So Yuki swings the door open to the roof and lets the wind do its utmost to haul her whole body into the air while she makes her way to her spot behind the air conditioning unit… only to find it occupied. 

There’s a kid from her class– Ishii, maybe? Sitting, also alone, in Yuki’s spot. Had Ishii not spotted Yuki, she might have crept back to the stairs, down to the classroom, and dealt with the stares, but Ishii did see her, and they gave her a soft, awkward smile. Yuki can’t exactly leave now, can she? She’s made eye contact and everything.

“Uh… hi,” Yuki greets, voice and expression definitely more stilted than she intends. She’s not trying to be rude! Clearing her throat, she tries again, “Ishii-san, right?”

Ishii nods fervently, swallowing a bite of the cafeteria’s almost-inedible prepackaged bun. “Yes, I’m Ishii! You’re Okumura-san, right!?” Their voice is a little shrill in ineffable excitement. Yuki doesn’t get what there is to be excited about. Still, she nods, tries at a smile, and hopes it isn’t too obvious that she’s still wary of this whole conversation– after all, excitement has never been the primary emotion in anyone who’s talked to Yuki at school so far. “Nice to meet you! Er, I guess we’ve seen each other in class, but it’s our first time speaking.”

“Right,” Yuki replies, still feeling out-of-place, “nice to meet you too.”

Ishii giggles nervously. “I’m just so excited to meet you, Okumura-san! You’re practically the coolest person in school!”

“I’m  _ what!? _ ” Yuki cries, fingers crimping around the edges of her bento. Has she misheard? Or is Ishii just a special brand of bonkers?

Ishii seems entirely unperturbed by Yuki’s undignified screech, and has kept talking in the meantime. “You’ve got the highest grades in our class, most of the time, and you’re really pretty, like  _ really _ pretty. I know a lot of boys think you’re scary because you don’t really talk to anyone, but I think they’re just intimidated because so many of the girls think you’re so pretty and cool– of course, I’m not really a boy  _ or _ a girl, but I’ve always wanted to talk to you– but I don’t have a crush on you or anything like that! I just think you’re cool, but you don’t seem to have many friends, and I don’t have any friends either, so I always wondered if maybe you’d w-want to…” and Ishii goes very quiet to murmur, “if y-you’d want to be my f-friend. Maybe.”

There is absolutely nothing Yuki can say to that. What could she possibly respond to that with? You know who would know how to respond to that? Her brothers. Maybe even her parents. She almost whips out her phone to text someone to ask what she’s supposed to say to all of that. But that would be rude– Yuki understands that much.

“U-um, unless you…  _ don’t  _ want to,” Ishii mumbles, face reddening self-consciously. 

“N-no!” Yuki cries, feels her brain screech to life like a train on rusty tracks, retries, “I mean, yes!” Ishii is still staring, lips folded into a thin, unexpressive line and eyebrows similarly untelling, but their nose and forehead are bright pink. “That might be nice? Being friends?”

“Oh, I don’t want to pressure you into anything, Okumura-san! You don’t have to answer me right away. I just, uh, I just thought I’d ask.”

“No! Ishii-san, I want to be your friend! I’m just horribly awkward, and I haven’t spoken to anyone in class really at all!” Yuki admits, “I thought you all hated me.”

Ishii loses the embarrassed flush in her face and her expression wrinkles into something confused and righteously angry. “Hate you!? No!”

“But, when those people were harassing me–” 

“Who was harassing you, Okumura-san?”

And Yuki might think this was fake. Some elaborate sham designed to fool her into believing that someone might actually want to be friends with her, only to pull the rug out later. She might have believed that, because how could anyone have missed the blatant bullying? The shoes in the trash can? The name-calling? The threats? Except Ishii looks so earnest, so mind-bogglingly determined, so wonderfully open-faced. What can Yuki do but– foolishly, she thinks– believe them? 

“Just Watanabe and her friends,” Yuki replies blankly. She’s totally out of her depth, emotionally. What kind of emotion should she be feeling right now?

Ishii *** seems disgruntled but waves the names off like the people aren’t worth their time before they have the chance to fire themselves up. “Watanabe and them will talk shit to  _ anyone _ – that’s not anything to do with you. They pick on Satou-san and Jun-san all the time too. You should have told someone Okumura-san!” they cry seriously, “We all would have supported you!”

It all sounds too good to be real. There’s no way nobody saw her being called names–… except, now that Yuki remembers, they never really bothered her in public, just in empty hallways and behind closed doors. The shoes in the trashcan–… except, Yuki was always the first one out of class, and was already rinsing her shoes off by the time anybody else got out the door. And Ishii just  _ looks _ so nice… Yuki wants to believe them. She really wants to believe, despite all her bravado, that someone wants to be her friend. 

So she does. Tentatively. 

And her and Ishii talk about Yuki’s favorite video game and Ishii’s favorite book until lunch is over, and then they walk back to the classroom together. As friends. Yuki actually smiles, and her homeroom teacher looks at her like she’s crazy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyy yall sorry im a day late -n-"  
> You'll notice three random asterisks (***) in the chapter. That's a memorial for one of the kittens I was fostering. I have Nikki (momma) and two babies, Eminem and Dre. Yesterday, as I was trying to finish this chapter after a really busy and physically strenuous weekend, Eminem crawled into my lap while I was working. When I looked down to pet him, he had stopped breathing and was dead. To be safe, we rushed Dre to the vet to check on him and the vet diagnosed him with a heart murmur and some paralysis in three of his four limbs. After spending a lot of time with some online vet textbooks (thank u, google books), I think Dre and his brother both had heart problems. Eminem's took his life, and Dre has arterial thromboembolism, a blood clot which is blocking the blood flow to his back legs and one front paw. He's still eating alright, and I think he's pooping alright too, but we'll have to wait and see. He might recover, he might not. The vet said the prognosis is not good but I'll keep trying.  
> Anyway, sorry that's a lot. I just wanted to let yall know that I got this chapter out as fast as I reasonably could ^-^"
> 
> i hope yall enjoy Eiji and ash bein cuties, and Yuki finally getting some gd friends XD (btw this is not the first time we have seen Ishii! search ur heart young padawan, you will find the answer)
> 
> now im gonna go watch barbie as the princess and the pauper and fucking die. love yall, stay safe, healthy, and happy <3
> 
> As always, check me out on Tumblr to see where we're going next [ tumblr.com/blog/bmgh-writing ]  
> and  
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!!! :DDDDDD


	24. keep us posted, ok buddy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context:
> 
> Yuki: :/  
> the whole entire okumura family, and ash: oh now. that's my girl. my bb. wut is wrong bb  
> Yuki:   
> fam:  
> Yuki: so wut do u do with """"frends""""  
> fam: :0  
> Yuki: idk just sounds fake to me
> 
> Eiji, to a groupchat: i lived bitch
> 
> Ash, to a different groupchat: i lived bitch

Ash might be exhausted and sore, but he still notices when Yuki comes home–… well, not  _ excited _ , but certainly  _ perplexed. _ The whole family notices, actually. She walks in the door, mumbling to herself, eyebrows pinched like they’ve been set that way all day, and she does her homework  _ before _ dinner. Weird. When Eiji pokes his head in the space left by the ajar door, he sees her just  _ thinking _ . Not playing video games, not even on her phone, just staring-at-the-wall kind of thinking. 

He tells Ash, Mom, and Dad. They all worry. Have the bullies decided their warning wasn’t serious enough? Are there new bullies? Does Yuki still remember that she can come to them? That they’ll help her?

Ash makes katsudon for dinner, with Mom’s help, because they already agreed that yesterday, but he says he’ll make the cupcakes Yuki likes for dessert. When they all sit down for dinner (or, wheel up to the table, in Ash’s case– his usual chair at the table has been settled in a corner, out of the way for later use), Yuki trailing in last behind the concerned looks of her family, they try to act normal. 

It lasts about five minutes before Tomoya cracks under the pressure with which Yuki is staring at the ceramic of her dinner plate. 

“Yuki,” he starts softly, drawing surprised and cautioning looks from Mom and Eiji, “is something wrong?”

Yuki’s raw honey-brown eyes snap to her father and appraise him pensively. “Not really?” she replies, like it’s a question, instead of an answer. “No, I guess not,” she decides, “I’m just re-evaluating my perception of my past interactions.”

Huh. Nobody is quite sure how to respond to that right away. Ash has to take a minute to parse out the meaning of the sentence– his Japanese is as good as everything else he does, but between the long words Yuki used and the prescription pain medicine he’s still taking, the words aren’t easy right now. When he figures it out, he asks “Why?”

Which is a great question, and Yuki squishes her face sideways trying to work out how to answer him as evenly as she wants to. She doesn’t want to overreact here. She’s not great with this kind of talk. The words aren’t part of her normal vocabulary, so everything she says feels stilted and strange. “I made a friend today,” she eventually works out.

“You did!?”

“That’s great!”

“How fun, Yuki!” 

“Why don’t you seem as excited as we are, my little knight?” Dad teases.

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Yuki shrugs. “I just thought nobody liked me,” she replies slowly, “I’ve never had someone  _ want _ to be my friend before.”

Perhaps a little strangely, nobody showers her with condolences, and nobody rushes to assure her that nothing is wrong with her, or that  _ they _ love her at least– she knows these things. She knows. They know she knows. And they all know what she’s feeling. Everyone at the table has felt it before. 

***

Ash still makes her favorite cupcakes after dinner– the only change is that they’re to celebrate, not to comfort. Eiji helps him with reaching things he can’t grab from cabinets, and washing the dishes.

Yuki tells them all about her new friend– Ishii Akira. They’re in her class, they sit two seats over and one seat back, and they’re pretty good at math (which, from Yuki,  _ really _ means something). She doesn’t tell the family how she met Ishii, but she does tell them that Ishii is really funny, because they get nervous real easy and will just keep talking and talking. She really seems to like Ishii, and the whole family glows with her happiness. 

“How are your friends, Nii-chan?” Yuki redirects– having exhausted her social batteries with being the center of attention for the whole evening. “You haven’t gone to classes the past week, are they taking notes for you?”

Eiji’s face drops and immediately resumes the conversation in an amplified expression of horror. “ **Oh shit!** ” he screeches, “I haven’t contacted them at all!”

“Since when, Ei-chan?” Dad clarifies.

“Since Ash went to the hospital! Oh gods, I’m such a bad friend!”

Yuki snickers, but offers, “I’m literally positive that if you tell them you haven’t been texting because your  _ boyfriend _ got  _ stabbed _ , they’ll forgive you.”

“You think?” Eiji whimpers.

Ash leans his head over, across the little gap between his wheelchair and the couch, to knock Eiji’s shoulder. “As the reason for the disconnect, I think Yuki’s right.  **Shorter and I sometimes didn’t talk for weeks when shit got real serious in our own gangs, or when we had to sort our own bullshit out** , it’ll be fine, Eiji.” Reassured by this, Eiji nods, and pulls out his cellphone to text his friends.

“Speaking of cell phones…” Mom prompts, and Yuki perks up.

“ **Oh!** ” she grins, trying out her best American accent, “ **Ash, we have a present!** ”

“ **You do?** ” Ash replies, smiling at her and winking to compliment her pronunciation.

“ **Yes!** Dad where did you put it?”

“Oh, uh…” Dad meanders around the living room for a second, totally having forgotten.

While he searches, Mom clarifies, “Really, we should have gotten you this months ago, but we just kept putting it off. And after what happened– well, we just couldn’t help but think how much worse it could have been had you not thought to use the mugger’s phone– or if you hadn’t had Eiji’s phone number memorized…”

“Here we are!” Dad announces, pulling a decorative little cardboard box from (of all places) behind the couch.

Yuki makes a face, chuckling. “Dad, why would you put it there?”

Frowning, Dad replies, “Well, you ladies said put it where he wouldn’t find it.”

“Darling,” Mom intones flatly, “I meant in our room, or in a cupboard.”

“Oh.” 

The room is silent, Eiji is still texting rapidly. 

“Well, here you go, Ash,” Dad hands Ash the little box with it’s rainbow exterior and Ash takes it, expression nonplussed. 

As he removes the lid, Yuki says, “ **You have to add my number first** .”

It’s a cell phone. A newer model. It’s slim and pale blue and still has the protective plastic stuck to it. There’s a note in the bottom of the box, written in Yuki’s scratchy English script.

**_Ash,_ **

**_Now you can call us when you need us._ **

~~**_or get friends_ ** ~~

**_We want you to have pick the case._ **

**_♡ Yuki, Mom, Dad_ **

Despite Yuki’s clear instructions, Ash immediately adds a  _ different _ contact for his first one, and sends a quick text that he knows might or might not get a reply. 

“Who was that?” Yuki demands excitedly. “I know it’s not my brother because he doesn’t look like a lovedrunk idiot right now–”

“Hm?” Eiji replies, still distracted by the conversation with his friends.

Yuki nods in a point-proven kind of way, then refixates Ash in her stare. Dad and Mom echo her curiosity.

“Just someone I used to know,” Ash replies, “in America. Maybe you can meet him one day.”

_ Groupchat: Photography=/=Photogenic _

_ Okumura Eiji: OMG you guys I’m so sorry! _

_ Tanaka Yuuto: EIJI _

_ YOU’RE ALIVE!!!!!! _

_ Honda Mitsuki: HOLY SHIT EIIIII-CHANNNN!!!!! _

_ WE THOUGHT U DIED _

_ ARE U DEAD?? _

_ ARE WE SPEAKING TO YOU FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE??? _

_ Okumura Eiji: no i am alive i swear _

_ Sato Haru: What happened Eiji? We were really worried _

_ You weren’t in classes either _

_ Tanaka Yuuto: WE TOOK NOTES FOR YOU <3 _

_ Honda Mitsuki: WE TOOK TURNS BETWEEN CLASSES :D _

_ Okumura Eiji: so i want to start by saying everyone is alive and okay _

_ Tanaka Yuuto: THAT IS NOT A COMFORTING WAY TO START THIS EIJI _

_ Okumura Eiji: Ash got stabbed _

_ Honda Mitsuki: oh my gods _

_ Holy shit _

_ Eiji i know u said everything was okay, but are YOU okay? _

_ Sato Haru: ^^^ _

_ That’s horrible.  _

_ I’m glad everyone is alright now _

_ Tanaka Yuuto: do u want to talk abt it? _

_ I’m so sorry bro that’s scary as f _

_ Okumura Eiji: we’re all okay. I’m fine. It was just a mugger. We got home from the hospital yesterday. _

_ I just want to apologize for not telling you guys abt it sooner _

_ Sorry for that _

_ Tanaka Yuuto: i will beat u up if ur trying to apologize for yoUR BOYFRIEND GETTING STABBED _

_ Honda Mitsuki: my bf is right.  _

_ (for once) _

_ Ei-chan we don’t blame u at all– that’s literally super understandable _

_ Okumura Eiji: that’s what Yuki said ^u^” _

_ Sato Haru: eiji. Bud. what can i do to help you? _

_ Honda Mitsuki: ^^^^ _

_ Tanaka Yuuto: ^^^^^^ _

_ My boi Haru has a VALID question _

_ Honda Mitsuki: yes!!! _

_ Eiji that’s super stressful, awful thing to go thru!! _

_ What can we do to help???? _

_ Okumura Eiji: honestly its just nice having someone to talk to _

_ Thank u guys  _

_ Tanaka Yuuto: np _

_ Honda Mitsuki: don’t worry abt it _

_ Tanaka Yuuto: but fr fr if u need ANYTHING _

_ Sato Haru: anytime buddy _

_ Tanaka Yuuto: u let us know _

_ Honda Mitsuki: is Ash recovering ok? _

_ Okumura Eiji: he’s ok _

_ In a wheelchair for a while tho _

_ But he’s ok!!  _

_ Tanaka Yuuto: thaT DOESNT SOUND LIKE OK??? _

_ Honda Mitsuki: IM WITH MY BB _

_ EI-CHAN  _

_ ARE HIS LEGS LIKE _

_ YA KNOW _

_ NOT GREAT??? _

_ Q~Q _

_ Sato Haru: that was real insensitive yall -_- _

_ His bf is now disabled and u guys r NOT helping  _

_ Jfc _

_ Okumura Eiji: no!! _

_ It’s ok!! _

_ Tanaka Yuuto: sorry eiji uwu _

_ Honda Mitsuki: babe i will kill u if u start using uwu faces again _

_ But sorry ei-chan _

_ Okumura Eiji: no u guys he’s not permanently disabled!! He just has to use the wheelchair while his wound heals bc his ribs are kind of funny shaped _

_ He was stabbed in the stomach _

_ Honda Mitsuki: ooooohhhh _

_ Sato Haru: is he getting around ok? I know u said he likes cooking, and I don’t imagine u guys could just  _

_ Like _

_ Rearrange the kitchen _

_ Okumura Eiji: 0///0 _

_ Actually _

_ Tanaka Yuuto: ur shitting me _

_ Honda Mitsuki: u ACTUALLY rearranged ur kitchen?? _

_ Okumura Eiji: my dad works in construction ok? _

_ And my little sister wanted to help bc she likes power tools _

_ And my mom had a nice time reorganizing and buying cute little spoon jars(??) _

_ Tanaka Yuuto: that is the CUTEST thing on the planet omg eiji ur family loves ur bf so much _

_ QwQ _

_ So sweet _

_ Honda Mitsuki: <3  _

_ So did ur family just drop from the clouds one day?? _

_ Bc u r all angels  _

_ Sato Haru: u guys are really sappy _

_ But i have to agree _

_ I’m glad nobody is taking this injury too hard _

_ Tanaka Yuuto: ^^^ _

_ Honda Mitsuki: but we need to do two (2) things rn _

_ We need to hang out. I miss u ei-chan _

_ Sato Haru: ^^^ _

_ Honda Mitsuki: and we need to meet ash. _

_ Tanaka Yuuto: I see a plan forming darling <3 _

_ Honda Mitsuki: we won’t pressure u for dates rn _

_ Sato Haru: let him get back to his bf _

_ Honda Mitsuki: but we r having a PARTY soon _

_ And by party i mean haru, me, my bf, u, and ur bf _

_ And maybe a cake >u> _

_ Tanaka Yuuto: keep us posted, ok buddy? _

  
  


**_New contact added! “Shortstack”_ **

**_Ash: hey guess who’s not dead still_ **

**_Is prettyface bitchboy still pissed at me_ **

**_Hey_ **

**_Have u gotten any taller_ **

**_Is that a no_ **

**_Imma take that as a no_ **

**_Shortstack: who is this and how did you get this number_ **

**_Ash: i’ll give u a hint_ **

**_U know what? Nvm i’ve already given u a lot of hints_ **

**_Figure it out kid_ **

**_I’m not buying a plane ticket back to NY just to say hi_ **

**_Shortstack: Ash?_ **

**_Ash: got it in one ;)_ **

**_Shortstack: ASH!????_ **

**_Is it safe for u to be texting me???_ **

**_Ash: sing I live in japanese suburbia, i’m not usually under threat_ **

**_I don’t think the yakuza have me on their radar yet lol_ **

**_Shortstack: I haven’t heard Kong or Bones or anyone say they heard from u_ **

**_jfc im honestly surprised ur still alive_ **

**_Ash: nah my gang changes phone numbers every month to keep rats off our tail and I don’t know the new numbers_ **

**_(thanks for that btw -_-)_ **

**_Wait_ **

**_U still talk to my gang??_ **

**_Shortstack: yeah_ **

**_I mean tbh after u left and golzine died a lot of the tensions kinda died down_ **

**_If the fat man ain’t paying the bills for a hit, there ain’t no reason for a drive by, ya feel?_ **

**_So tbh its kinda more chill now_ **

**_Ash: wtf_ **

**_Shortstack: i mean we ain’t friends, but they woulda lemme know if u was gettin in touch_ **

**_Oh and yut-lung is as pissy as ever, since u asked_ **

**_But blanca and him get along weirdly well_ **

**_Ash: idk sounds abt right to me_ **

**_Both lethal, both moody, both tried to kill me sometimes_ **

**_If they get married u owe me twenty_ **

**_Shortstack: ewwww blancas old enough to be his DAD_ **

**_Ash: as someone who was almost married to a man old enough to be his grandfather:_ **

**_¯\\_(ツ)_/¯_ **

**_Shortstack: o_o_ **

**_Dude ur weird now_ **

**_Ash: am i different?_ **

**_I’m on some weird pain killers so that could be it_ **

**_Yuki has been using these longass japanese words today i s2g i can barely understand half of it_ **

**_Shortstack: i mean like… idfk_ **

**_Ur just not so fukin intense_ **

**_Like u used to be so gd scary_ **

**_Maybe it is those pills who tf knows_ **

**_Wait why tf u on pain killers??_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so hiiiiii yall <3 but i wanna be clear: i hope u guys enjoyed the groupchat format, but i will not be doing that extensively. it was just the easiest way to convey the info I wanted to without sounding like im tryna reach a word count XD so i hope yallre aight w that for this chapter  
> also: our boi finally has a cellphone!!!! i figure he wouldn't have his one from nyc bc 1. last time they were there Eiji rescued him from golzine kidnapping and idk maybe its just me but i don't think Dino Fucking Golzine would let Ash have a cellphone?? and 2. if i was running from gang connections my phone would be the first thing i ditch tbh, which is why i hc that ash's gang switches phones often enough that ash wouldn't think to contact them first bc it's like kinda protocol for the gang to just switch between a bunch of burner phones all the time since they're pretty much Always under Attack if that makes sense. So like the Chinese gang wouldn't have to switch bc they seem to have high business connections that they exploit but Ash's only real "'"""business connection"""" was golzine soooo...... not a great resource. so burner phones. hence no cellphone. ok I'm really going into this a lot and idfk if anyone even noticed/cared abt this??? anyway. 
> 
> i hope u enjoyed this chapter!! I'm starting to work on a bank of prewritten chapters so i can breathe a little bit (and maybe start writing like idfk an actual Book?? i want Lesbians guys Q~Q)  
> love yall!!!!!   
> as always, check me out on Tumblr [ tumblr.com/blog/bmgh-writing ]  
> and  
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!! :DDDDDD


	25. Sleep comes last, and not yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context:
> 
> Ash: :(  
> Eiji: :/   
> Eiji: wanna prank call sing abt it?  
> Ash: ...  
> Sing: i have the power of god AND anime on my side AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH  
> Ash: :)
> 
> Yuki: have u eaten  
> Ash: maybe  
> Yuki: that means no doesn't it?? get in loser we're sledding to the kitchen

Ash and Eiji sleep in the same bed after the first night back from the hospital. It’s easier. That way, if Ash has to pee in the middle of the night, it’s less of a nightmare since Eiji can just pick him up and take him (as opposed to navigating the doorways and hallways in the dark). And if Eiji has a nightmare, it’s less scary since Ash is right next to him keeping him warm (even if the months are growing warmer anyways). He hasn’t hidden under the bed once since Ash began sleeping with him. 

But not everything about it is wonderful. Not all of it is anxiety-reducing. Some of it makes Eiji more worried than ever. He’s had to wake up Ash twice in a week because he’s holding his body so tensely, even in his sleep, that his skin protests against the stitches holding it together. Ash’s body doesn’t have the limp, boneless characteristics of sleep. He doesn’t seem comfortable or relaxed. His brow doesn’t unfurrow with unconsciousness. His shoulders don’t slump contentedly as he drifts off. His fists don’t fray apart as he rests. No. If anything, sleep is one of the last habits of Ash’s violent, American life to resist the pervasive feelings of safety that the Okumura family has been so lovingly instilling. Sleep comes last, and not yet. 

When they both settle in for the night, and the pull each other close, snuggle in, and fall asleep to the rhythm of their combined breathing, Ash goes first by merit of the pain medicine that Dr. Inoue prescribed. Eiji stays awake, counting heartbeats like sheep and feeling Ash’s body go tense and angry in sleep– just like he used to be when he was awake. Eiji whispers soft, soothing words to him, runs his fingers through his hair, holds his hand, holds him closer, closer. He knows it won’t help. But he still hopes it can. Hopes that whatever Ash battles in his sleep– leftover demons from a bygone age– they can be mollified with Eiji’s help. Not killed, but tamed.

He doesn’t want Ash to kill any part of himself. Not even the parts that the whole world finds horrific. Not even the parts Ash thinks are disgusting. Eiji wants all of it. Loves all of it. 

But tonight won’t be a good night no matter what Eiji does, because it was never up to him, or Ash– even though Ash’s brain chemistry is the one with a problem. It was never anyone’s choice. So the tense sleep turns shaky. Arms toss– legs twitch– heads twist– and Ash’s body trembles with the nightmare dragging him through some level of the inferno he was raised in. 

Eiji backs away. He knows what to do. He can’t wake Ash up right away– in fact, he hopes Ash doesn’t wake at all. He hopes Ash lapses back into dreamlessness and forgets this dream with all the others, but he knows better than to hold Ash through it, no matter how much he wants to. It will only make things worse to be close to Ash. Even Ash’s right hand– his dominant hand, his gun hand, his knife hand- is too much restriction for Ash to handle while he’s sleeping and scared. All Eiji can touch during these dark, bad nights is Ash’s left hand, and he holds it close to his chest, wrapped in both of his own hands. Tight, gentle, closer, closer. 

“ **I love you, angel** ,” Eiji murmurs. Too soft for even Ash to wake up. 

For a while, stasis. Eiji pressed to the wall on one side of the bed, clutching Ash’s hand like a ship’s tether to the dock. Ash shivering, stirring the blankets of the bed on the other side. 

Then the stasis is broken when Ash wakes with a gasping breath, as if he’d been submerged and only just now resurfaced for air. As expected, his whole body flinches from the warmth of the blankets, and his right hand darts for the gun he expects to find under Eiji’s pillow. “ **Fucking bastard,** ” he hisses before he’s even fully conscious. 

“ **Ash?** ” Eiji whispers. It’s a half-moon tonight, and the light is barely enough through the blinds for him to make out the severe outline of Ash’s panicked face, the glow of his hair, the fire of his eyes. 

“ **Eiji!?** ” Ash gasps like he can’t believe he’s hearing Eiji’s voice. He scans the room, looking for threats, before the fight dies in him upon seeing it all– Eiji’s desk chair, his tacky little decorations, his favorite books, camera equipment, pole-jumping trophies. He sighs heavily, lungs setting down the weight of a lifetime, and pulls Eiji close with both hands, left staying entwined with both of Eiji’s and right wrapping around to rest on the back of Eiji’s head. “ **I’m** here. I’m sorry. I’m  _ sorry _ , Eiji,  **I’m sorry** .”

“Shh, sh,” Eiji can feel his t-shirt growing wet where Ash’s face is pressed into it. “You’re okay.  **You’re alright** .  **Don’t worry,** it’s alright.”

“ **But** it was Sing,  **and he was– he– I** couldn’t–”

“Hey,  **hey, it’s alright, Ash.** It was a dream. **Just a dream. Sing’s alright.** ”

“But it was–  **it was so** **_real_ ** **, Eiji.** ”

“Do you want to call him? To check in?”

“ **I don’t want to bother him** ,” Ash insists, but his expression says that he  _ really _ does want to. 

So Eiji, after manhandling one of his hands out of Ash’s determinedly tight grip (“No,  **no,** it’s fine, don’t bother Sing it’s so late at night”), snatches Ash’s phone from the bedside table and clicks on Sing’s contact in the address book. 

It only rings twice. 

“ **The fuck’s up with you, asshole?** ” Sing grumbles into the receiver, somewhere in New York City.

“ **Hi, Sing,** ” Eiji chuckles into the phone. It’s on speaker. “ **Hey, what color shirt are you wearing?** ”

“ **Eiji!? Is that you!?** ” 

“ **Yes? Should I not be here?** ”

“ **Oh, fuck– uh, naw. Naw, that ain’t it. Shit man, I guess i’s just weird to think you two fuckers** **_lived_ ** **’s all. I don’ fuckin’ know** .”

Eiji laughs out loud, and Ash grins sheepishly. It  _ is _ pretty weird to think that they survived all that, isn’t it?

“ **Anyways, ain’t it like, late as** **_fuck_ ** **over there? The fuck you two assholes doin’ awake?** ” Sing’s concern is laced with cursing and barbed tone of voice, but they both know how to translate it. 

Almost, Eiji admits the truth. Tells Sing that Ash had a nightmare, was worried that Sing had died. But he remembers Sing, and he remembers how everyone saw Ash when Eiji first met him– deadly sharp edges and nothing else– and he thinks better of it. “ **Just checking on our favorite pipsqueak gang boss,** ” Eiji jokes instead. Ash snickers, and some of the residual tightness unwinds from his posture.

“ **‘Scuse the** **_fuck_ ** **outta you, I have** **_grown_ ** **–** ”

“ **Bye, Sing!** ” Ash tells the phone, and hangs up abruptly before Sing can finish justifying himself. 

They giggle themselves back to sleep.

“What kinda music is  _ that _ ?” Yuki pauses in the doorway, a cup of water in one hand as she navigates back to her room. 

Without pausing the music, Ash responds, “Good kind.” He’s still in Eiji’s room, lying in Eiji’s bed because Eiji has already left for school and it honestly sounds like way too much of a struggle to get out of bed for anything right now. Body vacuous and cold, even under Eiji’s comforter. For the last few hours, he’s been playing around on his new phone, figuring out how to work the camera, the texting and emojis, and now the music app. 

Yuki has been home from school, texting Ishii and doing her homework, for a little less than an hour– from which Ash can deduce that Eiji will be home in another hour and a half. 

Ma and Dad left for a date (“Darling, we haven’t been on a date in  _ years _ !” “What better time to do it? It’ll be fun!”) about twenty minutes before Yuki got home (“Will you be okay for just a minute on your own, Ash?” “We can stay, if there’s something you need help with in the meantime– we’d just catch the next train.”). They told Ash they’d be back late, and not to worry about them for dinner– “Order out if you’d like! Have fun!” They’d seemed so giddy. Ash smiles just thinking about it, but he still feels a little empty. 

Yuki has meandered farther into the room, nodding along to Ash’s chosen song. He doubts she can understand the English, the rapping is pretty fast, but she seems to enjoy the beat either way. 

“Is this the kind of music you like to listen to?” she asks. Face open and honest, like either way is just fine with her. No judgment. For some reason, Ash feels like that’s not right. For Yuki to just… accept whatever fucked up kinda music he likes. Feels wrong. 

Still, what’s he gonna do? Lie? “Yeah. A lot of it sounds like this.”

He expects Yuki to wander back out, go back to her homework, video games, friends (or, just the one, for now). But she doesn’t. She plops into Eiji’s desk chair, water sloshing in the cup while she sets it on his desk. “What’re they talking about?” she asks.

“What?”

“ **The words,** the lyrics– what are they saying? It’s too fast for me.”

How do you condense a genre like this one? What’s the common thread between Nelly and Jay-Z and Eminem and goddamn Fergie? Even thinking about trying to answer Yuki seems overwhelming. “Just about life, you know.  **I dunno, how it really is** .”

“ **‘How it really is’** ?” Yuki presses, “What does that mean? What is ‘ **it** ’?”

Frustration bubbles in Ash’s stomach, building into a growl that makes Yuki’s eyebrow arch.

“ **When was the last time you ate?** ” she asks in slow, careful English, almost laughing because  _ wow _ that was loud– Ash hadn’t even realized how hungry he is. 

He has to think, and it peeves him a little bit. Not rationally. He knows Yuki is being kind, accepting,  _ herself _ . But he’s still a little peeved. Just by nature of his blood sugar dropping to such sluggish lows. “Dinner,” he eventually replies, just a little snippy.

“Dinner  _ last night!? _ ” Yuki screeches. “Alright,  **get your broke ass in the wheelchair,** you need food.”

They bicker while Ash tries to maneuver himself into his wheelchair with as little discomfort as possible. Dr. Inoue had been right about this much: you use your torso for  _ everything _ , so  _ everything _ is a pain in the ass (actually, a pain in the abdomen, but whatever). In New York, he would have numbed it all with a careful dose of whatever opioid was popular, but this isn’t New York, and he’s got an actual prescription to go with his actual bodily care. 

“ **You have no clue what ‘broke ass’ means, do you?** ”

“It means  **your ass** is  **broken** .”

“ **No it does not,** but that’s fine.”

“ **Shut up, idiot–** how was that? Did I get that one right?”

“No, you mispronounced ‘ **genius’** .”

Like she promised, Yuki wheels Ash to the top of the stairs, and then they see the problem. Ash has only been home for two days, and in that time Eiji has been able to pick him up and carry him across stairs, or anywhere else Ash needed to go that was not readily accessible with a wheelchair (something Ash is  _ really _ enjoying– he would have gotten stabbed a long time ago if he knew it meant Eiji would be carrying him this much!). But Yuki  _ really _ couldn’t carry Ash if she tried. I mean, she might be able to pick him up, Ash still isn’t heavy. Down the stairs though? And she’s still a lot shorter than him. 

“Uh…” she realizes the dilemma as well. 

“ **How about this,** ” Ash suggests, “help me up. I just need you to support my weight while I get out of this damn chair.” Yuki grabs both of Ash’s hands and balances his weight and her own so they don’t topple down the steps even when he wavers precariously at the waist. When he’s sitting on the floor, he tells Yuki to bring the chair down, and she does while he begins to inch his way down the steps. Were this New York, he would have just walked down them normally– fuck the pain and fuck the stitches and fuck the shirt– but Ash knows that the Okumura family (Eiji  _ probably _ excluded) would freak out to see him so callously reinjure himself, so he is intentionally careful with his body, for their sake. This isn’t New York. 

After setting down the wheelchair, Yuki rummages around in the living room for a minute, fusses at the foot of the stairs, and bangs through the hall closet where the area rugs are currently being stored. Ash is still on the fourth stair when Yuki accosts him, shoves something into his hands, and beams at him with innocent, childlike mischief like the fifth escaped temptation from Pandora’s box. 

It’s a sled. A little foam sled. With a slick plastic bottom that promises to make Ash’s trip down the stairs  _ several _ minutes faster. At first, Ash gives Yuki a flatly unimpressed look, but she seems so excited. “I already set up some couch cushions for you to land in at the bottom!” she exclaims. Ash cracks. “ _ Please,  _ Ash-nii, it’ll be  _ fun _ .”

“ **Fuck it,** ” Ash decides, and he shoos her to the base of the steps, just next to her pillow pile, and he says goodbye to the back of his skull (which he is certain will crack on the hardwood flooring on the ground level of the house), and he slides the sled under him and let's go. He plummets, is certain that he will hit a wall, and is immensely relieved to find that he has landed, just as Yuki predicted, in the strategically-placed cushions that have been repurposed to cover the floor, both of the walls in the corner that houses the staircase, and even the lip of the lowest step. He bounces harshly, but harmlessly, off of what had been the seat of the couch a few minutes prior. The back of his skull is miraculously intact, and the ride down barely tickled his stitches. 

Ash wants to give Yuki a grateful smile, but she’s already cracking up with laughter, hugging her sides, tearing up– the whole nine yards– and Ash is inclined to giggle (a little less enthusiastically) with her. 

Then Yuki puts the couch back together while Ash cuts up an apple to share, and retrieves some yogurt from the fridge. “We can talk about a full meal when Eiji gets home from school,” he tells her. She gives him a sour look and calls him a word that doesn’t translate well into English, but approximates to “ **you hypocritical fool** .”

They eat in relative silence, and a few minutes after they finish Eiji swings the door open. Yuki jumps out of her chair, intercepts him at the door, and yells, “Nii-chan, your boyfriend is stupid and hasn’t eaten all day!” When Ash makes an annoyed noise, she turns to make a face at him and then looks back at Eiji, who is nonplussed in both senses of the word. 

“Ash…” Eiji starts, but he can tell by the edged glare he’s receiving that Ash won’t be communicative on this front. Eiji redirects, “Alright then– Mom and Dad already texted me– let’s order dinner!”

“Can we order from that sushi place!?” Yuki begs.

Shrugging, Eiji assents, “Sure, that’s fine with me. Ash, sushi sound okay?”

“Yeah, as long as I get to eat and as long as it’s not natto.”

“Ew,” Yuki agrees, “natto is  _ disgusting _ .”

“Will both of you calm down? Natto is an  _ essential _ part of Japanese cuisine!”

“I can cook just fine without it,” Ash insists. 

And on and on they go until the sushi is ordered, then at their door, then in their stomachs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aosdjfh HIIII  
> alright so side note my mental health is slowly sliding off a cliff BUT on the bright(?) side, I have plotted out until the end of this fic!!! we got six (6) more chapters together bbs. <3333 (imma miss this fic but also it's nice to have direction ya feel me?)  
>  i love writing sing talking like a little street kid it makes mah leetle heart go (u///u) ...... (partially bc that's close to how i talk XD)
> 
> stay tuned on Tumblr: [ tumblr.com/blog/bmgh-writing]  
> and, as always,   
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy! :DDDDDDDD


	26. Meet My Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context (shitty edition bc am TIRED):
> 
> Yuki: >o>  
> Ash: 0-0  
> Yuki: ~< \--<3  
> Ash: uwu  
> Yuki: uwu?  
> Eiji: uwu

When Ash and Eiji get back home after meeting Eiji’s friends, they look exhausted. It had been fun, they say, but fielding questions about things like how they met and how was America was rough. What are they supposed to say? “Oh, yeah, we met in a bar serving as a hangout spot for the gang Ash was running and we spent most of the time unraveling drug conspiracies and fighting for our lives and watching friends die”? Not exactly the light conversations with which to start of a first meeting. Of course, Tanaka and Honda insisted on having a race for who could wheel Ash from their table outside the cafe to the street corner faster (they tied), and Ash had a blast indulging them, while Eiji hovered worriedly nearby and Sato worked on convincing him that Ash was in as much danger as a purebred at a dog show– might feel a little overpraised, but not in any real danger. 

And that assessment really rang true as Eiji and Ash rode the train home. Eiji sat as close to the edge of the seat as he could so that Ash, in his wheelchair in the handicap-accessible space near the door, could lean his head on Eiji’s shoulder. Absolutely beat. They talk about how  _ much _ that had been. Eiji has had months to readjust to normal people doing normal things, but for Ash? These are his first non-gang-related friends– aside from the Okumuras and Touya–  _ ever _ . Their biggest worries were making rent, for the lovers Tanaka and Honda, who have already moved out of their parent’s homes and into their own place, and passing their classes. They’ve never once feared for their lives in earnest, and they think gangs work like they do in the movies, and that people close their own eyes when they die. But they’re wonderful people– friends. And they had been so excited to meet Ash– which is one of the biggest compliments Ash has ever received, and one he still turns a little pink over when he thinks about it. 

So, by the time they get home in the late afternoon, they’re both  _ tired _ , and everyone can tell. Yuki offers to make dinner, as long as everyone is okay with curry, which is the only thing Yuki has learned to make. Everyone is fine with curry, and she sets to work.

“Ash is too tired to cook?” Yuki comments at one point, “maybe he’s dying.” He’s joking, but neither of the Okumura parents seem to share her sense of humor, and they give her chastising looks from the living room. She thinks that her brothers would have thought it was funny, but Eiji already carried Ash upstairs for some quiet time.

Sing’s text is kind of unexpected. He and Ash hadn’t been texting at the time. In fact, Ash had just been basking in the warm sunlight of Eiji’s arms and the great time they’d had with Eiji’s classmates, his friends. So when he gets a notification for a text, he knows it’s Sing by virtue of being the only person in Ash’s contacts that doesn’t live in the Okumura household. 

**_shortstack: hey so i know ur bday isn’t for like two more months but i just found this so_ **

**_here’s my early present_ **

**_i def aint gettin u nothin else so_ **

**_IMG.071620_ **

**_took it a few days before_ **

**_at the house_ **

“Ash? What’s wrong,  **angel** ?” Eiji murmurs, wiping tears from Ash’s face. “ **Are you okay?** ”

Shoving his phone at Eiji, Ash whispers, “ **Look.** ” He wipes his own face and sits up to stop the congested feeling from the sudden tears. “ **Sing sent it to me just now.** ”

“ **Oh…** ” Eiji breathes, **“** it’s wonderful…” now he’s doing his best not to cry too. It’s not going well. “ **We’ll have to print it out. We can put it in a frame. That way he can be here with us** .” They’re both crying now. Just wrapped in each other’s arms, taking in Sing’s text. 

Ash grins, and the ground the smile grew on was waterlogged with guilt and grief, so it turns out a little wilty. “ **He woulda liked that,** ” he says, **“** I miss him so much, Eiji. So much it hurts.” Eiji nods into Ash’s collarbone

On the screen of Ash’s phone, with a big goofy smile and sunglasses folded into the neck of his ratty old sweater and his hair a little messed from whatever he’d just been doing, is Shorter Wang.

The picture goes up in a nice frame that Eiji got from the store on his way home from school the next day, in Ash’s room (which has, by now, become Ash and Eiji’s room) on the bookshelf. 

The day after the picture is printed and framed, Mom and Dad leave for what is becoming a weekly dinner date. That means Yuki and Ash (who now has four family members reminding him to eat at least a snack every few hours) are home alone until Eiji gets back from school, in about two hours. If Ash needs to go downstairs for anything, Yuki now knows how to get him to the ground floor safely and quickly, and everything else Ash can do on his own. Honestly, Yuki and Ash really enjoy the quiet house to themselves. Not that they don’t love their family, but the quiet is nice too. Sometimes, if the quiet is too much for either of them or just to enjoy each other’s company, Yuki will come and sit with Ash in his and Eiji’s room. 

Like today. 

She wanders in, video games in hand, barely looking up from the screen as she plops herself into the desk chair and spins it around. On the bed, Ash is beginning to knit a blanket– a pastime that Dad suggested, knowing how fulfilled it had made his mom feel in her last few years, during which she was mostly non-ambulatory as well. He’s got the stitch count right for this row, but he’s muttering to himself about the thickness of the yarn and the thinness of the needles. She’s thinking hard about the most efficacious way to heal all her party members with only one designated healer-type in the party and half the fight left. They’re just having a good time, generally, and it lasts for something like forty minutes before either of them looks up. 

It’s Yuki, and mostly she wants to check on Ash’s blanket progress, but she can’t help but notice the bright purple mohawk peeking through the simple white frame. 

But Yuki is smart, so she’s put the pieces together before Ash even starts to feel the weight of her realization smashing through the ceiling. When he finally pauses his needles and turns to see her, he can tell by the slack in her jaw that she knows. But there’s no way to be sure how much she knows, or remembers, or has put together just now. But he knows that she knows who took Shorter out of the light of day and put him in a white picture frame. He knows that she knows she’s looking at him and finally sees someone who’s killed.

But all she asks is “What was his name?”

And he has to answer “His name was  **Shorter** .”

And Ash can see the horror in her eyes, but he can’t see behind them to Yuki’s brain dredging up every memory she has of every time she’s found Ash crying the name  **Shorter** to an empty room or muttering the name  **Shorter** to himself or invoking the name  **Shorter** to tell him that he  **deserved better** and  _ fuck _ if Yuki knows what it’s like to lose a friend she’s only known Ishii for something like three weeks but she remembers what Ash told her–  _ told her, _ straight to her  _ face _ – all those months ago when Ash was sicker than a dog but still insisted on following Eiji to the store like he might die otherwise and Yuki had to help him find his way there and he  _ told her _ that he killed his best friend and he cries when he talks about someone named  **Shorter** and now the man has a picture sitting next to Ash’s bed on the dresser and Yuki can’t handle how  _ suffocatingly painful _ it must have been for her brothers in America because seeing this picture has put it right in her face and she can’t ignore any of the tiny things like Eiji’s whimpers about snipers outside his window and Ash’s broken sobs in the night and the way they used to jump so bad when she closed a door too loud and how Ash still jumps if Dad raises his voice and how Eiji wasn’t barely scared at all when Ash got stabbed  _ like he’d seen it before _ and they had been telling her all along how awful it was but it took  **Shorter’s** face to finally make her face it all and she runs away to sit in her own room and sob. 

She left her handheld console on the floor in Ash and Eiji’s room. 

Ash sits alone for a long time, head in his hands, hating himself. 

Everything is suspiciously quiet when Eiji gets home. Usually, on Mom and Dad’s date nights, Ash and Yuki are yelling at each other or at her game or about something they think is wildly hilarious or  _ something _ . They’re hardly ever quiet. 

But there’s a first time for everything, and Dad did start teaching Ash how to knit the other day, so maybe they’re just wrapped up in their respective tasks. He heads upstairs. There’s no pile of pillows at the base of the steps, so he knows that Ash is still upstairs. He plans to collapse into Ash’s arms and complain about the general, horrendous unfairness of his math class homework (which he only has to take one of, thankfully, as a gen-ed). 

He does not plan to enter his and Ash’s room and find Shorter’s picture relocated to the bed, Yuki’s handheld console on the floor, and next to that a few drops of blood. Ash’s wheelchair is still ready for use in the corner at the end of the bed, but Ash is nowhere to be found. 

“ **_Ash!?_ ** ”

“ **In the bathroom.** ”

Oh thank the gods. Eiji tries to be calm, like normal, when he sets his bag down and goes to the open bathroom door, but he can feel adrenaline making itself known in heart palpitations and a little bit of anxious sweat. None of this is helped by the fact that Ash is shirtless on the bathroom counter trying to clean blood off of his injured side. Again. 

“ **Aslan Jade Callenreese, I** **_will_ ** **kill you if you keep doing this** .”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll deserve it too.”

And Eiji hates his word choice now, because that’s Ash’s self-deprecating voice.

“What happened?” he asks, leaning on the doorframe. 

Ash’s voice is rough and hardened, trapped between how he is now and how he used to be, like he’s trying to shove himself back into who he was but he’s grown too big for that shell. “ **Yuki saw Shorter’s picture** .” 

“Why does that mean you’re bleeding on the bathroom counter again?” Eiji’s trying to keep his voice light, because they can’t afford to both be falling apart at once and clearly it’s Ash’s turn right now, horrible math homework or not. 

Bare feet pound all twelve steps from her bed to the bathroom and Yuki is red-eyed and terrified. “Ash is bleeding!?” she cries. 

“ **What?** ” Ash yelps, confused, “ **No,** no–  **well, I guess I’m bleeding a little** . Look, Yuki, I’m fine.”

“Are you really?” Yuki presses.

In a show of cold fuckery usually reserved for the American Ash, Yuki’s concern is greeted with a stony expression and none of the warmth that has been growing in Ash for months. “I’m fine.”

But Eiji won’t have any of it. “ **Ash, why are you being like this right now?** ”

“ **Because she hates me!** ” Ash shouts impatiently. He looks like the tiger caged at the carnival, waiting to be struck with the whip of the smiling ringmaster. “ **She** **_saw_ ** **Shorter’s picture– she knows who he is!** **_I killed my best friend_ ** **, Eiji. I’m a monster. I know it, Yuki knows it, soon everyone else will know it and then you’ll all come to your senses and kick me out before–…** ” but Ash trails off because he isn’t sure how to finish– because he’d never willingly do anything to hurt his family. Deep down he knows that what happened with Shorter was different– had things been even slightly different, Ash would never have killed Shorter either. But the alternative was that he let Dino Fucking Golzine and his science-goons use Shorter for whatever they wanted, and then make him kill himself anyway, after stripping away every part of Shorter Wang’s soul that had ever held residence in the body. Yes, deep down, Ash knows that what happened with Shorter was different, but he’s not ready to forgive himself yet. And he doesn’t think anyone else should either. 

“ **Ash,** ” Yuki whispers to the cold bathroom tiles, “ **I don’t hate you.** I-I’m sorry I ran. I just– just thought about what you guys said, what you’d  _ been  _ saying ever since you got home and I got so scared because I was trying so hard to i-ignore it.” Tears don’t bother trying to hide in Yuki’s eyes, she’s never been great at hiding them. “I didn’t want to believe that you’d seen such horrible things, Nii-chan, Ash-nii. I just wanted to be happy you were here. At home. With me.”

“We  _ are _ here with you, Yuki,” Eiji promises. “We’re not going to be swallowed whole by America  _ or _ our past. But we can’t forget it either.

Yuki nods. “ **I’m sorry** , I’m sorry.”

But after hearing all of that, Ash feels another piece of the debris clogging the gears that make up the machine of his brain dislodge. And he reaches out two arms. And he wraps his beloved and his little sister into one tight hug that he doesn’t let go of until all of them move right on to crying and then back to watery little smiles again. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Ash tells Yuki, “you’re Yuki, and you’re my little sister, and I love you.”

“Love you too, Ash-nii.”

“And I love you, Eiji.”

“And I love you too, Ash.”

“Alright, you two are gross. What are we having for dinner?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> adjo;lsdf i am so fucking tired yall it's been a WEEK i s2g gimme a minute i swear im trying my best i promise  
> i hope u enjoyed shorter being included bc it gonna make me crY i miss my bb boi Q~Q
> 
> check me out on Tumblr: [ tumblr.com/blog/bmgh-writing ]  
> and, as always,   
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!! :DDDDD


	27. Happy Birthday, Eiji!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context:
> 
> Everyone: :DDDD  
> Author, weakly: :D

Ash has a birthday surprise for Eiji. 

It’s not the cake. Eiji helped make it, and Ash had to ask him about the flavor he wanted anyway (chocolate, with whipped frosting). Ash had done most of the mixing and adding and pouring and frosting, but Eiji had washed the dishes and put the cake in the oven and took it back out. So the surprise is not the cake. 

It’s not the present either. Eiji had a hand in helping Ash purchase all the yarn for the blanket that Ash has spent about two weeks now knitting for him. Eiji also picked the colors he liked, though Ash had picked the pattern. So, despite the nicely-wrapped presentation hiding the blanket beneath it, the present is not Eiji’s birthday surprise either. 

Though Eiji had not helped ith them, the birthday decorations are not the surprise. Those go up for  _ everyone’s _ birthday– that’s a well-known Okumura household fact. So even though the streamers and the banner had been put up before he came downstairs, the decorations aren’t the surprise either. 

And while it is surprising that Yuki made the birthday breakfast pancakes instead of Ma or Ash, the breakfast isn’t the surprise, because they had asked Eiji last night whether he would prefer waffles, pancakes, or something else entirely. Besides, Ash had to keep Eiji distracted long enough for Yuki to finish cooking, so there was no way Ash could have made breakfast. 

The rest of the family does know about the surprise though, because they have been helping him prepare it for three and a half weeks. All while Eiji is at school, so Eiji doesn’t even have an inkling of suspicion. With Dad at home on vacation from work expressly for these purposes, Ma not having a job, and Yuki’s school day sending her home about two hours sooner than Eiji’s, Ash has plenty of help even when Eiji is out of the house. 

So the surprise is ready by Eiji’s birthday on June 29th.

Ash wakes up first, as usual, from the sound of the cicadas beginning their morning screams. This morning, he realizes he doesn’t remember if New York had cicadas in the summer. For a second, he panics–  _ loss of culture loss of self forgetting forgetting no don’t forget _ – but then a sense of pervasive calm washes the anxiety of letting go away. He doesn’t need to remember if New York had cicadas– and he lived so far into the city that he might never have heard them even if he listened real close, even if they were screaming as much as the people did. Probably, Ash would have heard gunshots before cicadas in New York. But forgetting that doesn’t mean he’s dishonoring Shorter, or Skip, or even his friends that made it out alive. Ash knew Shorter. Shorter had known Ash. Neither of them would have suffocated each other with such an oppressive weight as memory. 

But the excitement returns to Ash’s mind when he remembers the day: Eiji’s birthday. Yuki can be heard under the buzz of the cicadas banging pots and spoons and bowls and spatulas in her generally loud way. He’ll wait until she’s further along to wake Eiji. For now, he just snuggles in closer and lets hazy half-sleep overtake him again.

And he dreams of Shorter’s smile, and the gift he would have given Eiji– pink and blue butterfly knife that flies away when you startle it– and how Eiji would have laughed and held Ash’s hand as tight as anything. 

When he wakes up, Eiji is still holding his hand. 

Yuki is cooking, so Mom and Dad wake the boys up– “not too loud!” Tomoya whispers importantly, and maybe still a little self-consciously.

The door creaks open, and Junko is glad she brought her phone with her when she sees her boys all swaddled in blankets and happy in their sleep. She snaps a picture with her phone’s camera. “It looks like such a nice dream,” she whispers to her husband, “it’s almost a shame to wake them up.”

But everyone can smell Yuki’s pancakes and bacon (where did she get bacon? Nobody remembers purchasing it… somewhere down the street, Touya sneezes). The smells almost do the work for the parents, who still haven’t gotten up the nerve to move towards waking Eiji or Ash. In fact, Eiji’s eyes blink blearily open just as Junk moves to wiggle his shoulder.

“Mornin’ Mom,” he yawns softly. “ **Hey, Ash, wake up or I’ll put you in the shower again.** ”

“ **Huh– what?** ” Ash slurs, before more fully waking up, **“No,** no. You are  _ not _ putting me in the shower this morning– I don’t care if it’s your birthday,” and finally realizing, “Oh, hi Ma, hi Dad.  **Good morning** .”

Yuki is extremely proud of her work on breakfast (and she really should be, it tastes fantastic), and proud of the fact that she woke up at seven a.m. on a Saturday to make it. She rambles on, mile-a-minute, about how much Eiji is going to love the present from her, and she almost spoils Ash’s surprise too, but Mom and Dad team up to give her a warning glare before she lets it out. Eiji hardly seemed to notice anyway. 

They let Eiji pick some board games to play, and then they watch a movie (after a quick, humorous bickering match between Ash and Dad about whether or not to put subtitles on– that’s the one thing those two can never agree on). Yuki asks three times within those activities whether it’s time for cake– which is Eiji’s first clue, because this is clearly code for something, but he’s got no clue what. Everyone keeps telling Yuki to be patient, they’ll have cake later. 

After lunch, and some time where everyone does their own thing for just a little bit, Ash starts on dinner. Eiji got to pick dinner, and he had picked grilled lemon salmon. It’s a new recipe that he knows Ash has been dying to try, and it sounds delicious anyway. Everyone wanders into the kitchen sometime during the process of making dinner. Yuki does the dishes while Mom sets the table while Dad sets some glasses of water next to everyone’s plate and Eiji keeps insisting he can help but everyone tells him to relax, it’s his birthday after all, and there isn’t much to say to that so he sits at the counter and watches Ash cook happily. 

After dinner, they let their food settle while Eiji tells them all about his first real project for his photography class. He’s got to “capture nature in ways that appear unnatural,” and he’s  _ excited _ . He’s got all sorts of ideas, and he tells them all about them, and they pitch in with their feedback but mostly they just let him be excited. 

It’s a good day, overall, but Ash still has a surprise for Eiji. 

Mom meets Ash’s eye over the table. She smiles. “Who’s ready for cake?” she asks. 

Yuki all but explodes. “I am  _ very _ ready for cake,” she says evenly. Too evenly, with a suspicious smirk.

“Why don’t you two,” Dad gestures to Yuki and Eiji, “go wash your hands in the bathroom?” 

“What?” Eiji’s brow furrows and he laughs awkwardly, “Why not in the kitchen?” It’s closer than the bathroom– why would they go all the way to the bathroom to wash their hands?

“I think the  _ bathroom _ ,” Yuki affirms, elbowing Eiji, “is a  _ great _ idea.”

Eiji now catches on that this is part of something other than handwashing and cake, so he pushes his chair out, gives Ash a nonplussed look, and lets his little sister drag him to the bathroom.

When he comes back, Ash is also washing his hands. At the kitchen sink. Standing up. Ash can stand up. Eiji starts to cry a little. The relief is overwhelming. After just over a month of being stuck at home in a wheelchair, of being frustrated with his limitations, of bleeding fresh blood out of an old wound every time he tried to stand on his own, Ash can stand up. Can walk towards Eiji with a soft little smile and say, “ **Happy Birthday, sunshine** ,” and hug him tight– Eiji forgot how much taller than him Ash was! 

All of the fear that had surged with that stabbing, all of the anxiety over Ash’s slow recovery, all of the residual feelings of New York and it’s horrible, horrible hurt evaporates in the warmth of Ash wrapped around him. Eiji feels lighter than air, he’s laughing and crying. “ **Ash! You’re okay! You’re not hurt!** I love you so much, Ash. This is the best birthday present ever!”

After giving them their moment, Yuki coughs pointedly and says, “That’s fair, I don’t think I can top your boyfriend getting his motor function back, but you should still open my present.” Her face colors with self-consciousness and anticipation, “It’s pretty cool.”

So Ash cuts the cake (with probably more flourish than he needs to, but the family is still impressed, and nobody asks where he learned to use a knife that way), and Eiji gets a slice first, followed by everyone else.

After they’ve had their cake, they all sit down and open presents. Of course, Eiji loves the blanket Ash knitted for him, but he also loves Yuki’s gift– a customized remote for one of her consoles, so that Eiji can play the games too– and Mom and Dad’s– a fancy new camera lens. 

They play Jenga a few more times after that, and then everyone is beat. Ash wows Eiji again by walking upstairs all on his own, without so much as irritating his old wound, which has, by now, been relegated to baby-pink scar tissue. Everyone crawls into their own beds.

“Hey, Ash,” Eiji whispers. Everything feels so close and comfortable that his voice doesn’t even carry more than a few inches to Ash’s face. 

“Hey, Eiji,” Ash replies, drunk with exhaustion and more happiness than he ever thought could fit in one day. Once, he would have scoffed to think about even having time to celebrate birthdays. But today is not then, and he’s so happy about it that some things have just faded away to the edges of his sleepy consciousness. 

“Why did everyone else know you could walk before I did?” Eiji asks. Because everyone had  _ clearly _ known. Not that Eiji’s hurt by it, but he doesn’t get why Ash would tell everyone else before him.

But Ash giggles lightly, pushes his face into Eiji’s shoulder, and replies, “Who do you think helped me with all the exercises and stretches? I wanted to surprise you with it on your birthday. Otherwise, I would have asked you to help me, but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

Mystery solved, Eiji relaxes more fully under the comforter. 

“Hey, Ash?” he starts again.

Ash giggles again. “Hey, Eiji,” he answers again. 

“Can I kiss you?” Eiji asks. He knows he needs to ask. Especially with Ash, who he knows too well has never been asked before in his life. He can tell by the way Ash’s breath hitches next to him. Pauses before restarting stutteringly. His heartbeat flutters where their chests are pressed together. It should always be asked, consent, but Eiji knows that for Ash this is a lot. His sexuality has never been his choice, and even if Eiji knows in every neuron in his brain that Ash loves him, he also knows Ash’s boundaries must be his to set because he’s never been allowed to set them before. Eiji won’t be upset, even if Ash says he can’t do that much tonight. 

But Ash whispers, in the smallest voice Eiji has heard from him in months, “ **Okay** .” 

“ **Are you sure?** ” Eiji presses, anxious because “ **I don’t want to pressure you, Ash** .”

Ash nods and pulls his face from Eiji’s shoulder. “I’m sure,” he says, Japanese carefully measured by the syllable, “I love you, Eiji. I  _ trust _ you. You wouldn’t–… you won’t hurt me.”

In the narrow half-moon light slanted between the blinds on the window, Ash’s eyes glow in an achingly fragile way. Eiji realizes too late, after he’s already started to lean in, that’ he’s never kissed anyone before– except for that one time in prison, if that counts. Were it not for Ash’s lifetime of practice on less loving partners, the kiss might have been more awkward. But Ash tilts his head just right so their noses don’t bump and they share one wonderful, beautiful, quiet first kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so booboothefool over here knows that June 29 is not Eiji's canon birthday but she did not plan her timeline well, so in order for the rest of the dates to work, his birthday had to take place sometime after June 1, which is when the debacle with shorter's picture last chapter happened-- if you're American and wondering why Yuki and Eiji have school in June, that's bc Japanese schools have different timelines than ours..... (and frankly, theirs make more sense. so.)  
> i know this chapter is a teensy bit shorter than normal (maybe u didn't notice, but my wordcount-addicted ass did ^u^"). i wrote most of it today bc Depresso Espresso umu. Also i lost like ALL the skin on one of my fingertips the other day so typing is a struggle rn XD (the cabinet took my skin. don't ask me how i just work here).  
> ANYWAY, ilyasm. I'm trying to get back on track, so maybe look forward to next chapter being longer? *checks notes* wait, scratch that, DEFINITELY look forward to next chapter being longer that's the one i was considering splitting into two chapters XD  
> I'll see u soon! if u wanna check me out in the meantime, here's my Tumblr: [ tumblr.com/blog/bmgh-writing ]  
> and, as always,   
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy! :DDDDD


	28. Tonight is the night they're going to talk about It.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context:
> 
> Ash/Eiji: *tragic backstory*  
> Junko/Tomoya: well FOUR can play at that game!!!

Tonight is the night they’re going to talk about it. 

Yuki is off to Ishii-san’s house for her first-ever sleepover– she had been over the moon and nervous as a meth addict in a police station at 2 pm on a Thursday (constantly asking if she looked alright, doublechecking her possessions every few minutes, debating putting in a call to someone she knew– the works. After all, Ash has  _ seen _ a meth addict in a police station at 2 pm on a Thursday, he had been sitting next to them for minor assault charges that the police miraculously decided not to drop after talking to Golzine). Since Yuki would be eating with the Ishii family, it’s just the boys and the parents for dinner. And not two minutes into the meal, Eiji tells Ash that he caught Yuki saying ‘hi’ to Shorter’s picture, still in the white frame in Ash and Eiji’s room, when she passed by. Ma and Dad give each other a solemn look. 

“Ash,” Ma starts slowly, “Ei-chan–” and they both know what it is just by that endearment. She only calls him “Ei-chan” when she thinks he’s going to need it. “When we were in the hospital, Dr. Inoue told us some…” she tries to phrase it right, “some worrying things.”

“About the condition of your body prior to the mugging,” Dad clarifies. “Dr. Inoue told us there was a lot of scar tissue.”

Ma nods along. “Yes,” she affirms, “and that concerns us. So does some of the things we hear you two say, and the nightmares. And Yuki doesn’t tell us much, but she seems to know more than we do by virtue of knowing more English. And–”

“What she means is,” Dad interrupts, sensing Ma growing a little upset with the topic, “We’re worried about you. We want to know what’s wrong.”

“And I made Ei-chan promise at the hospital that you two would tell us what happened sometime,” Ma continues. Her brow furrows and her fists clench, but it’s to brace herself. Dad has the same posture next to her. “About America.”

They’ve both known this was coming for a while. You can’t live with people and just never tell them the reason you flinch when they yell, or wake up screaming from nightmares, or hardly reacted to being stabbed or seeing someone stabbed, or any of the genuinely consciously upsetting things that both Eiji and Ash are aware that they do. 

“Where do you want me to start?” Ash asks. He’s smiling wryly, hollowly, resignedly.

“Us. Where do you want  _ us _ to start?” Eiji corrects him, gripping his hand under the table. He didn’t let Ash go into gunfights alone, didn’t leave him alone when he cried himself to sleep, Ash doesn’t get to do this by himself either. Eiji’s gonna be right next to him, the whole time, hopefully forever. 

A little surprised and a little emotional, Dad answers, “Well, I guess whenever it started?”

The boys exchange a look.

“ **Ash?** ” Eiji asks, “ **that’s up to you. I won’t say anything you’re uncomfortable with.** ”

“ **But they’re your parents,** ” Ash counters somberly, “ **We have to tell them everything.** ”

Eiji holds Ash’s other hand in his. “ **They’re** **_our_ ** **parents, angel. And we don’t have to tell them everything** **_right now_ ** **, they’ll understand if that’s too much.** ” Ash still looks stony and nervous and half-angry in the way he does when his walls are protectively raised, so Eiji adds, “ **You’ve met them, Ash. Do they look like they’re gonna push anything?** ” 

And they look. And Ma and Dad are patiently waiting for them to finish their gibberish conversation (or, something close to gibberish, for people who don’t understand more than a handful of words in English). And they’re worried but kind, and sympathetic without pity. They  _ care _ , and what can Ash do about walls in the face of two people who just genuinely  _ care _ , not just about him, but about Eiji too? 

“ **Alright,** ” he murmurs, “ **We’ll just start with when we met** .”

“ **Do you want me to, or…?** ”

Ash gestures, “ **Go ahead.** ”

Finally, Eiji turns to his parents, who are doing their best not to look too curious about what Eiji has to say. “I mean,” he starts, “you know what I went to America for, right?”

Ma nods. “To take pictures for Ibe-san’s article about American culture, wasn’t it?”

Ash smirks. Eiji certainly did see a lot of American culture in New York, but mainly just the shit kind that they try to legislate away and hide behind hyper-consumerist advertising campaigns. 

Eiji seems to have a similar thought in his head because he returns Ash’s smirk with his eyes. “Kind of,” he replies to Ma, “Ibe-san’s article was about American  _ gang  _ culture. That’s why he went to New York City instead of somewhere less…” he looks to Ash for the right word.

“ **Violent?** ” Ash suggests, shrugging.

“Sure, somewhere less  _ violent _ . Actually, Mom, Dad, I met Ash in a bar. He had his favorite gun on him–”

“I still miss that gun.”

“–and I asked him if I could hold it–”   
“Which was seriously the cutest thing I had ever seen someone ask.” All three of the table’s other occupants turned to Ash, looking a little surprised. “ **What?** Nobody had ever  _ asked _ to hold my gun before. Assholes always just tried to swipe it from me– and you were so polite about it, Eiji.” He smiles, this time just sweetly, and squeezes the hand of Eiji’s that’s still locked with his. 

“So you met my son in a bar because he politely asked to hold your gun?” Ma clarifies. She sounds like she wants to smile, so the boys smile first and give her permission, and she takes that and starts laughing. “How very like you, Eiji!” she says.

But, of course, the rest of the story is full of things that  _ don’t _ sound very much like Eiji. So they press on.

“Right after that, I was kidnapped, along with a little boy who was nearby at the time,” Eiji continues, “His name was Skipper.” He grips Ash’s hand with white knuckles for this part. “We were tied up for a while. I don’t really remember how long. Ash came and gave up his gun to save us, and then broke us out–”

“ **No** ,” Ash interrupts, “ _ you _ saved us when you pole-vaulted over that wall to get help!”

Both parents had been watching, a little slack-jawed, but very attentive to the story, but now Dad barks, “You did  _ what!? _ Eiji, that’s amazing!”

“It really was,” Ash agrees with the same wonder in his eyes that he had the first time he saw Eiji flying through the air, as free as a bird.

“But what happened? How did Ash and Skip get away?” Ma presses. Her lips are pressed in a fine line– she doesn’t know what happens next, but she can guess.

“They, um–” Eiji coughs. The temporary reprieve of distraction with his pole-vaulting (or, in this case, pipe-vaulting) skills doesn’t overshadow how it all ended.

“My friend Shorter and some other members of my gang came to get us,” Ash answers, “In the fight, a man named Marvin shot Skip, and he died.”

Ma’s eyes well with tears. Her sons. Her babies had to see the light die in someone’s eyes. She doesn’t yet know how many times they had to go through that. Even once is too much. 

“He was just a kid,” Ash snaps quietly, grief fighting with blame for control of his vocal cords. “He shouldn’t have died.”

“And the man who killed him?” Ma replies harshly, “Marvin? What of him?” her words are just short of feral, and it’s an unfamiliar tone for the boys.

“He was murdered by someone else,” Ash answers flatly, and Ma nods fiercely before hearing, “And then they pinned it on me and sent me to jail.”

“What!?” Dad cries, incredulous, like he might call up the warden or the investigating officer right now to really give them a piece of his mind. Ash and Eiji both giggle bittersweetly at the sentiment.

“I was only there for a little while. Just long enough to meet Max– a war buddy from my older brother’s unit before he… Before my older brother went nuts. Poison. Max probably saved his life by shooting him in the legs so he couldn’t hurt anyone else. Or himself.”

Eiji takes over when he sees the color draining from Ash’s face. “I visited him once while he was in prison. And then, after he told me to,” Eiji can’t stop himself from smiling, just a little, at the thought of  _ how _ Ash got that information to him– their first kiss– but the smile wanes more melancholy when he finishes, “I met up with his friend, Shorter. There was a whole lot going on with this drug, Banana Fish– it makes you go crazy and kill everyone around you, and then yourself–”

“How horrible,” Ma whispers. To be fair, it  _ is _ horrible, or _ was _ . Nobody is making that shit anymore. But The boys are telling this story tonight, so they don’t stop to think about what was and wasn’t horrible, they just tell their parents what did and didn’t happen. Otherwise, they might fall apart. Their parents look almost ready to. 

Ash coughs, “Yeah, it is. That’s what made my older brother crazy. A man named Arthur shot him while I was in prison.”

A little desperately, like clawing at an old wound, Eiji insists, “There was nothing I could do–”

“ **I know, Eiji** ,” Ash murmurs. He’s trying to be comforting, because there really hadn’t been anything Eiji could have done, but you can only be so comforting when you’re talking about your dead brother. So Ash just trudges on through the story. “Eventually I posted bail, with some help from Max and his lawyer, but I didn’t want them messed up with my shit, so I ran off– and your son,” he glares pointedly, a little facetiously, at Eiji, “decided he  _ had _ to come with me.”

“Ash, you were planning on taking down the mafia  _ by yourself! _ ” Eiji sounds more lighthearted too, and then turns to explain to his parents, who look like they’ve lost the train of the story, “He  _ was! _ Arthur was working with an old bastard named Dino Golzine to run the city, and Golzine was running a child sex trafficking ring, and Ash–” he stutters here. That’s not Eiji’s part to tell, and Ash doesn’t look like he wants to bring it up. “Ash had to stop him. And Arthur.” Ma looks like she’s reading between the lines anyway. To steer away from  _ that _ trauma, Eiji redirects back to the main story. “Then Ash tried to attack Arthur and Golzine in one fell swoop, but he got shot doing it.” Eiji leaves out the part about surfing on a semi. Ma and Dad already look ready to lose their minds with belated worry. 

“Shot?” Dad clarifies, “As in, with a gun?”

Ash lifts up his shirt and points to the uneven scar tissue marring the skin from that particular bullet wound. It’s nothing new to Eiji, but Dad and Ma both start crying when they see that this is not the only bullet, knife, steel-toe, or unidentified scar on just the part of his torso he showed them. Ash pulls his shirt down. He looks embarrassed, and it’s a new look for him. The parents hardly even see it underneath the image stained into their retinas of Ash, the love of their son’s life, one of their own children, covered in three lifetime supplies of scars before the age of twenty. 

But Dad doesn’t seem especially shocked. Surprised, sure, but not shocked. Shocked would be if he didn’t know what had been hiding beneath Ash’s t-shirts, but surprise means he just didn’t expect this much. Everyone at the table can read this look in his eyes, but none of them know what to do with it, so on with the story. 

Ash starts, “We hung out in Cape Cod for a while, visited the house where I grew up. Saw my dad–”

“That man is still not nice,” Eiji pouts, “I don’t like how he talked to you, Ash.”

Ash throws his hands out with a little exasperation, “Well, he saved me from being framed for murder again and he got shot doing it, so I think we’re square.”

“Still–”

“Your  _ father _ got shot too!?” Ma cries, “How!?”

Ash answers offhandedly, “Golzine’s guys,” like that wraps up the whole matter and it should all make sense now. Then he continues, “We were still trying to figure out the whole mess with that drug, Banana Fish, so we followed that trail to LA, where we met Yut-Lung. He kidnapped Eiji and Shorter for Golzine and flew them back to New York.” By now, both Ma and Dad’s eyes are spinning. So much new information. New names, new places, new scars and events to match them. It’s not an easy story to follow either– Ash knows he could be doing a better job explaining it. But it’s like the words are stuck in his brain, and his tongue has some hidden agenda about letting them out. The story is coming out garbled no matter whether he or Eiji tries to tell it, so however it comes out is just what the parents will have to work with. Still, Ash pauses long enough to give them time to ask questions, and when none are forthcoming, he rushes through the next part. 

“Max, Ibe, and I followed Eiji and Shorter back to New York, but they got us too. Tied us up. Made us watch while they shot Shorter up with Banana Fish and set him at Eiji like a goddamned attack dog. Th-they…”

Eiji leans into him. Whispers, “ **Ash, you don’t have to…** ”

Tears or no tears though, it’s gotta be said. “They made me… kill Shorter,” Ash confesses. And it truly is a confession for him. Like a sinner in a booth with the priest. He says it and lets the tears roll and waits for someone to reprimand him. To tell him how to repent. To show him absolution. 

But nobody does. Ma just breaks down crying too, because she knows who that happy boy with the mohawk is from the picture upstairs now, and Dad cries too because he can see how bad it hurts and he feels the sympathy in his chest. The whole family, minus Yuki (who is really having a great time with Ishii-san), just cries at the dinner table. Water droplets on empty plates. And Ash doesn’t have to tell them that Shorter had been his best friend, because they know, and he doesn’t have to tell them exactly how the scene played out, because they don’t need to know. That’s family. That’s love. Just crying together at the table for a solid five minutes before anybody feels ready to pursue what came next. 

After introducing them to Sing, and later Cain, and to Ash and Eiji’s time in their little apartment together, Eiji takes the reins to recount Ash’s fight with Arthur on the subway. Forty-three people. Forty-four, if you count Arthur. Eiji gets stuck on the sentence “Ash almost died, they told us he died.” He repeats it four times. 

“ **I’m not dead, sunshine** ,” Ash reminds him, and he’s only half-funny about it. The other half of him is running calloused fingers through soft hair and assessing Eiji’s pulse where their hands are intertwined. 

Neither Dad nor Ma seems to know what to do about this, so they just watch while Eiji blinks back to himself and returns Ash’s smile, and Ma remembers when Ash had insisted on Yuki dragging him out to the store to chase after Eiji when he was sick. Like Eiji might have been dead. Because, she now understands, they  _ really _ mean it when they talk about how they had to keep each other alive in America. They’re not talking about emotions (even though that was certainly part of it), they’re talking about  _ literally _ and  _ physically _ keeping each other from  _ dying _ .    
“They held me at some medical facility,” Ash restarts suddenly, rushing through what he doesn’t want to talk about again, as if the briefer his explanation the less it will hurt. Ripping off the bandaid. “Fuckers wanted to do experiments on my brain. But I broke myself out, and me and Eiji found each other again, and then Golzine hired a guy to threaten us, and Eiji got shot–” Dad taps the spot on his cheek where Eiji’s scar is mirrored, and both boys shake their head. “Nah, not that one.”

Rolling up his sleeve, Eiji points to the faded graze on his upper bicep and says, “This one.” 

“No bigger than the scar from your pole-vaulting injury,” Dad sighs, more than a little relieved to see that Eiji’s body isn’t the same scarred-up mess that Ash’s is. 

Ash is clearly not satisfied with  _ any _ injury though. “But it gave him a fever of 101.3, Farenheit– er, 38.5, Celsius.” Both parents express their shock in various ways, and Ash nods. “Yeah,  **Blanca did his job, alright** . Their scare worked, and I went back to Golzine willingly.”

“You…” Dad seems to be having a hard time swallowing this one. His eyes are welling with tears again. “You went back to him  _ willingly _ . Oh, Ash–…” but he has no clue how to express what he’s feeling, what he knows, what he doesn’t know, the weight of it, so he leaves that there.

“Golzine had me for a while. I, uh. I lost track of time. Maybe it was a month?”

“Twenty-two days,” Eiji supplies. He knows exactly how long that was. He counted the days like a madman in the steps he would pace across the room of the disused apartment where he and Ibe stayed the whole time, plotting and perfecting their plan to break Ash out and get him to where he is now.

“Golzine made me–” Ash pales again. He hates this part. It’s too fresh, too raw in his mind. More of an open wound than the puckered flesh where he got his stitches removed last week. He gets an encouraging nod from the table. “He made me do… horrible things. I couldn’t take it. I stopped eating so he couldn’t make me do anything else. If I was too sick to move, it would– I mean, it wouldn’t  _ stop _ , but it would– I don’t know? Slow down? There was less. I guess.  **Eiji, how do I tell them–** ”

“ **Ash, they understand–** ”

“ **But I have to explain–** ”

“ **Ash, angel** , look at me.” And he does. “They understand. Right, Mom? Dad?”

They both nod. “You don’t have to explain to us, Ash,” Ma reassures him, “we understand well enough. It’s alright.” There really isn’t anything that Ash can compare to the pervasive safety of a mother telling you it’s alright. The panic leaves him, and it’s getting faster at doing that each time. Maybe one day it will be like a flash in the pan: something will freak him out and he’ll feel the panic just long enough to register it for what it is and then it’ll be gone. But today it takes a few seconds, and then Ash is just a little embarrassed about how far he dissociated from the here and now, and he relishes in the easy love in the eyes of everyone at the table. 

“Well,” Ash coughs, “uh, after that Eiji came to save me– that’s where he got the scar on his cheek– and then we came here.”

“You know the rest,” Eiji finishes. And then there’s a few minutes of silence. Digestive silence that becomes a little less heavy as the seconds whittle away. Eiji watches Ash, whom he knows will be having a much harder time with this. New York had been Eiji’s reality for a year. New York had been Ash’s reality for a lifetime, and Ash is already preparing the speech. The “I understand that what I did is disgusting,” the “I understand that who I am is unforgivable,” the “I’ll leave now,” the “I’m sorry for causing trouble.” He’s got every speech ready for anything they could reasonably respond with, because as much as Ash has healed since the January morning when he and Eiji arrived at that airport in Japan he is still in some ways the scared ten-year-old with a gun, waiting for the moment he’ll be forced to pull the trigger. 

“What about Sing and Max?” Ma finally asks, “And all of the nice boys in your gang, Ash?” Dad nods, like this is the most logical next question– and, to them, it is. That’s the only loose end of the story. Or, at least, the only one they care about. Are the “nice” boys who helped their sons doing alright for themselves now?

Eiji also thinks it’s a reasonable question. He would have answered it too, except Ash burst out laughing before he could even start. 

“‘Nice boys’!?” he giggles, “ _Nice!?_ **I mean, I guess they really helped our asses out, but I think some of ‘em’d take personal offense being called** ‘nice boys’!” When nobody else laughs with him, Ash swallows the rest of his laugh and answers, “They’re fine, Ma. Max is still reporting, and I text Sing pretty often. Apparently New York has calmed down a _lot_ since I was there. Nobody trying to take down crime bosses, and not a whole lot of crime bosses either– Just Yut-Lung, and he’s keeping to himself.” To Eiji, he adds, “Apparently Blanca’s convinced him to see a therapist– I bet _that_ guy is making more money off that headcase than he knows what to do with.”

“Really?” Eiji says, “That’s so nice for Yut-Lung.”

Ash shrugs. “He did try to kill us, Eiji. You could be less excited that he’s focusing on self-help.”

Waving the comment off, Eiji says to his parents, “You guys are taking this pretty well. I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were upset– Ash hurt people.  _ I _ hurt people.”

And the room shifts. The literal table metaphorically turns. Ma and Dad exchange a glance not dissimilar to the one Ash and Eiji shared at the beginning of dinner. 

“Ei-chan,” Dad starts, “and Ash too. I think… I think it’s time we told you how your mother and I met.”

“What?” Eiji had never thought about how his parents had met, and neither had Yuki, really. That’s not something that comes to mind for all kids. They’d never asked, and their parents had never told. 

“I wanna know,” Ash sings, excited, and very convinced that it can’t be worse than the shitshow where he met  _ his _ future husband. 

When Eiji adds, “Me too,” it’s partly because he’s wondering why he’s never thought of this before. 

“Um, well, Ei-chan, Ash,” Ma stutters.

Dad cuts in, “We met in a parking lot,” dropping both Ash and Eiji’s jaws. 

“A parking lot!?” they both screech, just off from unison.

“Oh, but we can’t just start there, darling!” Ma resounds confidently, “That makes it sound so, um, so… awful.” 

Dad scoffs fondly. It’s a first, hearing him scoff, for both of their sons. “What, do you want to start with you being a sex worker and my “ _ family _ ”?”

“Sex worker!?” Eiji shouts.

“Why do you say “family” like that!?” Ash cries.

“Is this why I’ve never met my grandparents!?” Eiji continues. 

“Alright, calm down, boys!” Ma cuts all their exclamations short. “Yes, I was a sex worker– although that’s a much nicer word than I would have used for what I was doing.” She clears her throat and the baleful look from her eyes. “I was…” she sighs heavily. Dad holds her hand and she gives her husband an annoyed look for his inability to properly convey the story. “When I was your age, Ash– maybe a few years younger– I left home. Wanted to really strike out on my own. I was quite the angry young woman, if I’m honest with you. For a long time, I was angry. And, yes, for a few years I worked in Akibahara selling… myself.” Ash looks ready to cry, or pee his pants. Ma is beginning to be able to guess why, so she reassures him and Eiji, “Everything was on my terms. It wasn’t wonderful, but it was fine. Nobody got hurt. I was just making ends meet. I had a little apartment, I always made rent on time, I was able to go out to eat once in a while– not with any johns, just myself.”

“And that’s where I come in,” Dad sings. “I was working construction, living with my parents– your grandparents– and your mom…” he blushes a light pink color, the way Eiji does, “she found me with the lights beat out of me in Touya’s parking lot.” He giggles, but that doesn’t make either of his sons more comfortable with what they’re hearing.

“Who knocked you?” Ash asks– and with Ma admitting a past in sex work, he’s ready for Dad to tell him gangbangers (or whatever Japan has… the Yakuza? Ash hasn’t looked into it too much, truthfully) left him out to dry over some turf or something. 

But no, what Dad says is worse: “My parents. I was living with them, and they weren’t treating me right,” he laughs again, like it’s a reflex for talking about bad stuff. “But your Mom saw me stumbling around that night, concussed and seeing stars with it, and she took me back to her apartment that night and, for some reason, did not take me to the doctor–”

“I was sleeping with people for money!” Ma cries, “Just because I could make rent does  _ not _ mean I had enough money to take a stranger to the emergency room!”

“Oh, darling, you know I’m not blaming you– I turned out fine, after all.” Dad says, and he giggles and makes a funny face at them, “Or am I?” They all laugh a little at that. “No, but she really did save me that night.” He sighs softly, and him and Ma share that soft look married people share when they love each other too much to tell anybody anything about it. “You can’t imagine how it feels to go from–” then he turns to look at his sons, “oh, what am I saying?  _ You two _ know better than anyone.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright i just wanna say first of all THANK U so much for all of ur guys kind words last chapter and ur well wishes. genuinely means so much that yall would go out of ur way to say nice things to me i am soft abt it QwQ  
> to quell anyone's fears, everyone is all fine at home rn-- asshole man went home to Missouri and we are now free to live our lives in peace :D  
> I'm posting a little early because I'm leaving town tomorrow to look at rental properties in Iowa, where I'm transferring to finish my bachelor's degree, and possibly my graduate degree in creative writing!!! super excited abt that tbh hehe but i do have to wake up at 4 am to catch the flight so take the chapter and run my ppl. ilyasm <3333  
> as always,   
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!! :DDDD


	29. Cookies for Shorter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context: 
> 
> Yuki: AH MY BROTHER IS MISSING AAAHHH  
> Eiji, Tomoya, and Junko: ....   
> Eiji, Tomoya, and Junko: wonder what other plot event could be similar and possibly a foil to this scenario  
> Everyone: *looks directly into camera*
> 
> Ash: TTmTT  
> Ash: pourin one out for mah homie

“What do you mean you can’t find him!?” Mom cries, a little more dramatically than she means to. 

Eiji throws up his hands. “He’s not in our room, my room, Yuki’s room, or literally  _ anywhere _ else in the house– and he’s not answering my texts!”

Yuki looks up from her phone, where everyone assumed she had been tuning them out. “I just texted Touya. He hasn’t seen Ash since his shift ended– but he came home after that!” Her free hand fidgets with her sleeves. “We saw him come home! Where did he go!?” she exclaims. She’s more panicked than anyone else because she sometimes forgets that he’s a wholeass, capable adult, and not just her older, blonder brother. 

“He can’t have gotten too far,” Dad reasons cautiously, “His legs still aren’t as strong as they were before.”

For Yuki’s sake, because she’s just barely not panicking, Eiji doesn’t voice that he knows Ash to be capable of going much farther than should or could be reasonably expected of him in much worse states than he’s in now. 

“Where do we even start looking!?” Yuki cries.

Ma tries for a joke, “It’s your birthday all over again.” Then she adds, “We’ll go looking in the same way. Tomoya, you stay here in case he comes home. I’ll go left, towards Touya’s and the train station. You two kids go right, see what you can find near the other restaurants. Who knows, maybe he just didn’t feel like cooking?” The reasoning falls flat and she knows it. Not just because it’s out of character for Ash to not want to cook, but because all of this is out of character. Sneaking around to exit the house undetected is out of character. Leaving without telling anyone is out of character. Staying out for hours on end is out of character. Not coming home is out of character. From Ma’s point of view, anyway. 

Everyone sets out to their respective search areas. 

Not ten minutes into their search, Eiji gets a call. 

“Hello? Ash?” he says, hoping this is another pilfered phone. Optimistically, a borrowed one. And not one yanked off the unconscious body of a mugger.

The wrong voice, but a familiar one, replies, “ **Close, but no.** ” 

“ **Sing!?** ” Eiji grins despite the situation, **“Is that you?** ” He knew Ash had gotten Sing’s number recently, but had yet to save the number into his own phone. 

“ **Yeah, yeah.** ” Even through the phone, Eiji can see Sing’s tough-kid posture and half-grin. He sounds like he’s doing alright. Less stressed than he had been last Eiji saw him, anyway. **“Can you just go pick your fuckin’ boyfriend up from the fuckin’ bar?** ” Sing asks, sounding hilariously unaware of how much panic would have been solved if he had called Eiji ten minutes earlier. “ **Bastard’s been textin’ me up fer hours now, and I’m done tryna make sense of it.** ”

“Who’s Sing?” Yuki whispers. She knows it’s not Ash because her brother’s face hasn’t relaxed yet. 

“A friend from America,” Eiji answers Yuki tersely, and then clarifies with Sing, “ **He’s at a bar?** ”

Sing sounds genuinely surprised. Like it’s the weirdest thing he’s ever heard that Ash would go somewhere without at least telling Eiji. Maybe it is. “ **Is that why he– ?** ” but he doesn’t finish that thought. Instead, he opts to just answer, **“Yeah, yeah, he’s at a bar. Half the shit he’s sayin’ is in Japanese though, so I’m only, like 70% sure of** **_anything_ ** **he’s typin’ into that goddamn phone** .” If his tone is to be believed, and the fact that Eiji can hear the echo of Sing putting him on speakerphone, Sing is texting Ash while he’s talking to Eiji.

Yuki asks, “What’s he saying?” 

But Eiji doesn’t have the mental capacity to listen to Yuki and Sing  _ and _ worry about his stupid boyfriend who has run off to hang out at a bar and text  _ Sing Soo-Ling _ of all people. “Shh, Yuki.” To Sing, he says, “Thank you–  **Thank you for calling me, Sing. I owe you one.** ”

Eiji had planned on hanging up to go searching whichever bars he can think of and texting Ash that he  _ better _ pick up his goddamned phone to answer Eiji if he’s already texting Sing– but Sing says, “ **You owe me lotsa ones ‘bout now, pretty boy.** **_You_ ** **try talking to Ash while he’s crying drunk, fuckin’ hell.** ”

At which Eiji kind of gapes. “ **He’s** **_drunk!?_ ** _ ” _

“He is!?” Yuki yips impatiently, ready to storm the gates of whichever establishment her stupid,  _ stupid _ , blonde brother is apparently drunk in. Eiji shushes her again, but she’s looking less worried and more peeved as she hears Eiji’s side of the phone conversation.

“ **Nah, he went to the bar for a fuckin’ flower bouquet.** **_Yeah, he’s fuckin’ hammered off his ass._ ** ” Sing snaps haphazardly, clearly still texting an inebriated Ash even while on the phone with Eiji.

“Goddammit,” Eiji sighs. **“Yeah. Okay, okay– I’ve just never seen him drunk before. Can you get the name of the bar out of him?** ” he asks.

“ **Already did– while you were losing your mind over a few shots, like a pansy** ,” Sing teases. Knowing him, and knowing where he is, where he grew up (where he’s _still_ growing up), Sing’s probably been drunk several times before. Sing says, “ **it’s called Omizu, apparently.** ”

“Six-minute walk from here,” Yuki whispers helpfully, phone pulled up with directions to the bar in question.

“ **Perfect.** ” And, for the first time all night, relief. “ **Thank you, Sing.** ”

“ **Yeah, yeah. I’m hanging up on ya now, got another call. Catch ya on the flip** .”

And the line clicks dead. Eiji sends a quick text to Mom. Yes, we found him. Gonna go pick him up now. No, you can head home. We’ll be there soon. I will. Love you too.

“So Ash is…?” Yuki broaches quietly. Eiji looks  _ pissed _ , and she doesn’t want any part of that, no sir, but she could only hear bits and pieces of the conversation (it was overheard from Eiji’s phone  _ and _ in English, there’s only so much a kid can do). 

“Drunk,” Eiji snaps, “He’s at a bar. Drinking.”

“And we’re mad?” Yuki clarifies. Frankly, she doesn’t know why Eiji is mad– she’s just relieved that Ash is okay.

If Eiji weren’t already walking, he’d start pacing when he starts ranting. “Yes! No!? I don’t know, Yuki– kinda! He had us all worried sick, you know? He could have  _ at least _ answered my texts.” Eiji’s shoulders relax from how they’d been puffed out in righteous indignation. The fight has left him. “I just don’t know why he’d do this all of a sudden.”

Now that her brother doesn’t look so ready to Fight God (or maybe just his boyfriend), Yuki relaxes too. Drunk Ash is still Ash. “His birthday is in a few days,” she remembers, “maybe it has something to do with that?” She giggles, “He really didn’t wanna tell us when it was, remember?”

For Yuki’s benefit, Eiji giggles too. 

When they get to the bar, it’s mostly empty. Just the bartender looking increasingly uncomfortable and Ash slumped over in his seat at the counter. There are two girls chatting in a corner booth, but nobody else is in the establishment. 

“You here for the foreigner?” the bartender asks– he eyes Yuki, clearly a minor, warily. 

Yuki, equally wary of the bartender, replies harshly, “What about it?”

“Yuki! Be polite–” Eiji reprimands, and Yuki glares at him for it. “I’m so sorry for her behavior– and his. I’ll just take him and go.” Then Eiji remembers and adds, “What do we owe you?”

After a long look at Yuki, then Eiji, then Ash, the bartender shakes his head, clearly exhausted by all of them, and replies, “Nothin’, just get him out of my bar.” 

“Absolutely. Thank you, sir.” Eiji bows respectfully, shoves his sister’s head down to do the same, and yanks Ash (who had been sleeping!?) by the arm outside. 

Yuki picks up Ash’s things from the counter and follows them out. 

“ **Eiji! I’m so habby to see you!** ” Ash sings, not even getting the words quite right, but seeing Eiji’s expression, he frowns too. “Why’re you mad at me? Did I do som’thin’ bad–? Yuki! You came too!”

“Where did you go, Ash!?” Eiji demands suddenly. “You disappeared without a word, went to a bar, drank yourself stupid, and decided not to text me back to tell me you’re okay! Do you have any idea how worried we were!?”

Ash flinches, but recovers quickly and drapes himself over Eiji in a hug that is partially what keeps Ash upright. “ **Sorry** , sorry, Eiji. It’s Shorter’s– I had to take’m out for a drink. ‘Cause it’s–” and then there’s those tears Sing was warning them about on the phone. Ash sobs into Eiji’s shirt until there’s a wet spot on his shoulder. 

Yuki, watching them, and thinking they’re kind of disgustingly cute despite the situation, is still holding Ash’s stuff. His phone. A jacket. And Shorter’s picture in the white frame. 

Eiji, holding Ash and rubbing his back and hoping he doesn’t get vomited on, is realizing what day it is. August 8th. Thursday. And the anniversary of Shorter Wang’s death. 

Shit. He didn’t even know. Leave it to Ash’s genius-IQ brain to have Shorter’s death day memorized– even though Eiji couldn’t remember what  _ month _ it was in America. There was so much going on, Eiji didn’t even recognize that time could have significance– it was just Right Now, and if you don’t focus Right Now, you get shot– or your friends get shot. Guilt pours into every pore on Eiji’s body. Grief. Regret. If-only. Why. 

To Ash, he says, “I– I’m so sorry. I… forgot. I forgot what day it is.”

“ **Shorter’s dead and it’s all my fault** ,” Ash moans.

“ **No, Shorter is dead and it’s all Golzine’s fault** ,” Eiji corrects. It’s been a while since he’s had to correct Ash with those kinds of statements. “ **You did the best you could for Shorter. Remember, Ash? You saved him from life as a lab rat** .”

Yuki pipes up, in improving English, “ **He had a happy life** . That’s why he’s smiling so much in his picture.” Ash turns to rough up her hair, and she hands him Shorter’s picture. 

“ **I miss him** ,” Ash murmurs.

“ **Me too** ,” Eiji whispers.

“Maybe he’s still here though,” Yuki adds, “watching over you. Like a spirit. Ya know? I don’t think he would be able to leave his best buddy alone, right?” And, in an unprecedented move of familial affection, Yuki pulls both of her brothers into a big hug. 

When the two girls from inside the bar walk out and give them funny looks as they pass, everyone lets go.

“Alright,” Eiji says, “let’s get you home and sober.

Ash nods. “Okay.”

“ _ Or _ ,” Yuki suggests, “we could go home and make  _ cookies _ . We could even make Shorter a little shrine and leave some for him!”

And anybody who has ever known a drunk person knows what they went home and did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeyyyy sorry i'm a day late i forgot it was Monday yesterday until Late In The Evening but here is chapter!!! it's kinda a sad one but also it Needed to happen (and the last 2 are happy so enjoy those :D)
> 
> ilyasm, I'm working on responding to comments but also trying not to emotionally overwhelm myself haha
> 
> also, apparently I'll be uploading the last chapter from my new house in Iowa city!! :DDDDD we found a wonderful rental that wasn't too expensive (the landlord is giving us a huge discount!!) and is very close to the university.   
> In other good news, for anyone who cares about the life and medical adventures of the kittens I'm fostering (The Baby Professor Charles "Kickstand" Xavier and his mother Ophelia), the Professor (who hasn't had any movement or sensation in either of his back legs since a cardiac event a few months ago) is having one of his legs amputated soon! This is great news, since that leg has already been luxated from the hip and knee joints, and the nerves are all dead, so it's only dragging him down. Date for the surgery is still to be set, but it will be an easy surgery and fast recovery, and then he'll be cruising in a little kitten wheelchair! :D 
> 
> I'll see yall next Monday with a wonderful, happy surprise of a chapter! i can't wait to share these last two chapters with yall!!!! they're going to be nice happy things to end on bc i am a Sucker <3
> 
> check me out on Tumblr (if i ever manage to get back on there and be active ^u^") [ tumblr.com/blog/bmgh-writing ]  
> and, as always,  
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!! :DDDDD
> 
> (PS: also, if u r on tiktok and wanna hear me rant abt my mental illnesses/trauma, @cakelesbian is where u can find me there?)  
> as always,


	30. Happy Birthday, Ash!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers, but I give you no context:
> 
> Yuki: it says it's for birthdays  
> Eiji: yea, but not--  
> Ma: it SAYS it's for BIRTHDAYS  
> Eiji: no, but ur not listening--  
> Dad: i have already purchased the Item  
> Eiji: jfc
> 
> Ash: boy howdy it sure has been one long day at work of people being Like That to customer service workers, i can't wait to snuggle with my boyfrie-- AAAAHAHHHHHHHHHHHHsdfjnglkjjljasfjk

It’s the fourth time today. 

Ash typically works the busy shifts with Touya, since that’s when Touya actually needs a second person, but tonight there’s been a birthday party, a bachelor’s party, and three large assortments of friends, in addition to the normal traffic of families, couples, and other smaller groups. 

Naturally, a few have been rude. One man was even downright mean, eating most of his meal and then insisting that he receive a coupon since his meal was “undercooked.” When Ash had said they don’t offer that kind of service, and pointed out that he’d eaten most of the food already, the man had been enraged, and demanded to speak to someone “who looked like a man, for gods’ sake,” Touya had emerged from the kitchen, flatly told the man exactly what Ash had said, and exchanged places with Ash so he could relax in the privacy of the kitchen while Touya waited tables. The man’s friend had suavely talked him down from physical violence, the friend’s wife discreetly payed the tab, and the three of them exited with mouthed apologies to Touya, who passed them along to Ash. Still, the man had been an asshole, and he wasn’t the only one for the August 12th dinner rush shift. 

But this is the fourth time today that a customer has spent the better part of thirty minutes ogling Ash from across the establishment; and four times out of four, when Ash finally makes his way to their table, despite knowing their stares are not meant to catch his professional attention, the only thing they care to order is his number, the time he’s off shift, or just his entire person. Every glance feels like needles poking his skin from the inside, bloating him with itchy plastic stuffing. They remind him of glances from before, ones he couldn’t escape or ignore, ones that demanded and ones that he had to bear for hours no matter what they did– but those memories are fading into pastel impressionist landscapes where they had once been glaring, neon portraits. But the stares are poking holes in the gauzy barriers of time and distance, and Ash is considering asking Touya to switch with him again. 

No, he can handle it. It’s just a young woman. She couldn’t ever really hurt him, he reasons. She certainly is glaring like she could eat him whole though. She’s been here for half an hour, even though her and her friend’s plates have long been cleared. She hasn’t asked for the check. It’s almost the end of the night. He approaches her table with a polite smile dangling below his cheekbones, polite as he can muster, but not reaching his eyes.

“Ma’am, would you like the check?” he asks, feeling grotesque enough under her appraising eyes to be bold. 

Her friend looks uncomfortable, and almost starts to move her mouth to say yes, her hand halfway to her purse before the woman says, “No, I’m fine where I am.”

The frustration builds. Ash grits his teeth. “Ma’am, we are closing soon. Are you sure you would not like a check?” He makes eye contact with the friend, hoping she can talk sense, or at least create an excuse to get this woman out of here, but the friend has been cowed and declines to make eye contact.

“How about I’ll take the check if your number is written at the bottom?” the woman presses, lips puckered into a flirty smile. As if she can’t clearly tell her advances are unwanted. 

“I’m so sorry, ma’am, but we don’t do that here–”

“Oh, come on, pretty boy, your shift is almost over,” she coos. 

Ash feels his smile crack under the weight of the disgust he feels oozing from his shoes. How do you talk yourself out of these scenarios again? Ash is forgetting. He feels like he used to be good at this, He had to have been, right? Forget it. He’ll give her a fake number and a wink and she’ll leave and all it will cost is some dignity and tip money. 

A young woman and her even younger son skip out the door with some of Touya’s specialty fried ice cream dessert in a to-go cup, and now it’s just the woman, her friend, and Ash. 

And Touya, apparently, who meanders out of the kitchen with a dishtowel over his shoulder and a bright smile. All he says is, “Ma’am, this young man is currently dating another boy, and isn’t interested in women who don’t respect the boundaries of customer service workers. I’ll ask you to pay at the counter and exit the premises now, please.” 

“Neruko, come on,” the friend, emboldened by reinforcements, finally speaks up. “Let’s just go.”

And the woman, Neruko, apparently, gets a little flustered and a little angry and she stomps over to the counter, slams two notes on the table (which ends up being just a few yen over her total– so, for anyone wondering, she is a shitty tipper), and stomps out, friend in tow without so much as a backward glance. 

Ash scratches his neck self-consciously. It never feels great when a customer storms out so lividly, even if she wasn’t great for business in the first place. And the whole situation had been a nuisance too. “Sorry, Touya–”

“Ash,” Touya interrupts, “if you don’t stop apologizing for the actions of people you can’t control, I won’t give you the Touya’s Specialty Birthday Ramen I made for you and the Okumuras just now.” Ash blinks. In the rush of the shift, he had forgotten. Maybe part of him still wanted to forget. Ash’s birthday is today. “I know ya didn’t tell me, but Junko did, and there wasn’t no way I was letting you walk out of here without some kind of present, even a small one.” Touya grins his big, wide, cheesy, signature grin, with one of the back teeth on the left side missing. “Happy Birthday, Ash. Now get out of here and have some fun with your family.”

So Ash grabs the to-go container of ramen and begins the walk home. Eiji had texted and told him he’d meet him at home– he had to finish up a project for one of his general education classes (English! Of all things, he has to take English! Needless to say, Eiji speaks it more naturally (though not as technically correct) than the professor, who has studied but never fully immersed himself in the language). 

It’s a nice night, for August. It’s finally starting to cool down, so he doesn’t feel like he’s trudging through a sauna with his load of ramen dripping from one hand. The moon is waxing and happy through the intermittent clouds, and a few stars are visible through the light pollution. It’s something like eight (Touya’s closes early on Mondays), so Ash can hear the jubilant trill of laughter from other dining establishments, the soft drone of perma-exhaustion from convenience stores, and the post-dinner relaxation from the homes he passes. All the horrible paradigms of the past have taken the night off, so nothing feels amiss amongst the calm and the quiet. It’s a nice night, for August 12th. 

When Ash gets home, all the lights are off inside, and he thinks that’s fine. He’s never wanted to celebrate his birthday before and he doesn’t see any special reason to start now. He’d kind of rather crawl into bed with Eiji than have everyone stare at him and sing him the Happy Birthday song. 

In order to not disturb anyone who might be sleeping, Ash doesn’t turn the lights on, just creeps straight to the kitchen to stow the ramen safely in the fridge for consumption tomorrow. He gets halfway to opening the fridge door when he hears footsteps behind him. 

Then a few things happen all at once.

One. Ash, in the dark of the kitchen after a particularly stressful day, assesses the situation wrong and his free hand, out of habit, goes to his waistband, where it might have found a gun a year prior but today finds nothing.

Two. All the lights in the kitchen turn on at once. Three people jump out from behind various objects of furniture.

Three. Ash, still not entirely over his kitchen-late-at-night-with-the-shadow-people panic, drops the ramen and jumps a few feet backward, managing to bonk his head on the fridge and his hip on the handle of a drawer. 

Four. Tomoya, Junko, Yuki, and Eiji all scream, in high-pitched, excited, and therefore absolutely mutilated English, “ **_Happy Birthday!_ ** ” These words don’t process with their intended meaning for Ash until several seconds later. 

Five. Ash, having jostled his ribs around the still somewhat-tender scar tissue in his side, sinks to the floor, then hears what has been screamed at him, then realizes what has happened, and finally begins to laugh more loudly than even Eiji has heard in a  _ while _ , if ever. When everyone realizes he’s really okay, and processes what all just happened, everyone else laughs too. 

Six. When they are done laughing, the whole family takes a moment to appreciate the fact that the ramen to-go container’s lid did not, when the whole tub fell to the floor, pop off like a pubescent popstar whose manager marketed her as a sexual object for people of all ages without her consent. And then they laugh at that too, and Dad picks it up off the floor. 

“We didn’t mean to scare you  _ that bad _ ,” Yuki insists between chuckles. “It was supposed to be a surprise, not a horror film!”

Dad wipes his eyes. “But then you didn’t turn on the lights when you walked in, so we panicked and followed you to the kitchen.”

“Which was probably really creepy for you,” Ma admits, with a whole new wave of laughter.

Eiji, for his part, sashays across the room and sweeps Ash into his arms (because he knows that Ash  _ loves _ how Eiji can lift him up so easily), and kisses him quickly. “Happy Birthday, Ash,” he tells him. 

It’s been literal  _ years _ since anyone has said those words to Ash. Part of him wants to be embarrassed, to try and contain his laughter and respond to Eiji with something smooth and composed, to the best of his ability, but that part doesn’t win. The part that wins keeps laughing and laughing, and wraps Ash’s arms around Eiji’s neck and kisses him back until Yuki complains about PDA.

“Can we show him now?” Ma whispers (too excited to keep her volume below Ash’s hearing).

Yuki and Eiji both shush her fervently, but Dad can see that Ash has already heard, and shoots him a paternal wink. “How about Touya’s Special Birthday Ramen first?” he suggests, and everyone loses their minds about the ramen for a few minutes– enough to forget about whatever they were going to show Ash before. 

Everyone is starving so they don’t talk much while they eat, until Eiji jokes about how hungry they must have been to be slurping so intently. 

“I just got off a six-hour shift!” Ash insists, “Of course I’m hungry!”

“And I’m a growing young girl,” Yuki adds.

“Ah, I guess us parents have no excuse, Touya’s ramen is just that good,” Ma giggles.

Ash stops for a second. “What exactly is  _ in _ the special ramen that makes it so good?”

Yuki raises her brows. “ **Don’t ask, don’t tell** ,” she says in solemn English.

Chuckling, Ash informs her, “I don’t think that means what you think it means.”

After dinner, everyone ushers Ash into the living room. It’s been decorated with the usual birthday streamers for the occasion, and it looks very festive and lovely, but there is a notable new addition to the party decorations. Hung in the center of the room, above where the coffee table would normally be (but Tomoya and Yuki still haven’t gotten around to painting the one they’re making in the backyard, so table-less the room has thus far stayed), a colored in bright, rainbow hues of shredded paper, is a piñata. 

“Why is there a piñata?”

“Is that how you pronounce that?” Ma asks, “It has that weird squiggly line over some of the English letters, so we weren’t sure.”

Eiji explains, “Well, Dad had the idea to have a real American birthday party for you, but I didn’t really see anyone celebrating birthdays when we were in America, just Halloween. A lot of the internet sites said you just have a cake and candles and make a wish, but that’s almost the same as what we do in Japan–”

“But one site showed us these  **pin-a-tasu** ,” Yuki cuts in excitedly, “And they’re filled with candy. The website said some people in America do these!”

“And nobody listened to me,” Eiji huffs, faux-annoyed, “the only person here who can read English above a first-grade level.”

For the second time in a night, Ash doubles over with cackling laughter. When he gets his bearings enough, he tells the family, “ **Piñatas are from Mexico!** Piñatas are from Mexico!”

“ _ I know that! _ ” Eiji insists, trying not to join his boyfriend laughing, “It said it on the website, but they heard ‘paper animal filled with candy’ and forgot to listen to the part about which country it’s from!” But then it’s all just so ridiculous that Eiji is laughing too, and then Yuki and Ma and Dad catch on.

They’re all still laughing while Dad explains, “We had to take the train to a store in the next town over, and they just sold the one kind.”

“Okay, but Ash, even if it’s the wrong country,” Yuki tells him, “you have to be the first to hit it with the stick since it’s your birthday.”

“And then candy falls out!” Ma exclaims, absolutely giddy.

Eiji smirks. “ **It’s like Halloween again** ,” he mutters to Ash, “ **just without the pumpkins.** ”

Ash smacks the paper-mache horse(? Dog? The shape is so ambiguous that it could be a hundred different animals), and it cracks. Then he hands the stick to Yuki, since she clearly wants to hit something, and she smacks it, and the crack grows. Then Ma, who’s excited for the candy, smacks it, and the crack grows even more. Dad takes his turn, making sure to be gentle enough not to finish it before everyone has had a chance. And finally, Eiji smacks it with a smile and all the candy dumps from the side of the piñata and onto the floor, and everyone cheers and begins to pick pieces up to eat.

“But not too many,” Ma reminds them, “we still have cake!”

The cake is chocolate, with nineteen candles arranged around the edges. It’s clean enough to show that Ma did most of the baking and frosting, but the writing and decoration is messy enough to show that everyone helped. 

“Don’t forget to make a wish,” Yuki reminds him excitedly after the singing is done (in horrible, vaguely-melodic English).

Ash nods and makes a wish and blows out the candles all at once. But he knows his wish is going to come true (the candles are just for extra luck).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM ONLY TWELVE HOURS LATE THANK U FOR UR PATIENCE ILYASM
> 
> HERE IT IS!!! ASH'S BIRTHDAY CHAPTER!!! CAN U FIND ALL THE HIDDEN INSTANCES WHERE I UTILIZED PREVIOUS FORESHADOWING AND/OR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT TO CULMINATE IN THIS CHAPTER???? ITS A GAME! :DDDDDD (XD)   
> ALSO, WE LOVE TOUYA, THE ONLY VALID MANAGER NO CAP (the scene with all the ppl bein creepy to Ash has been inspired by my real life experiences working at a fast-food restaurant :,D)  
> Also, i hope yall enjoyed everyone being so excited abt piñatas that they don't even pay attention to the part where its not from the country they were going for XD Junko just Really Enjoys Candy.  
> in exchange for being twelve hours late, i have 2 treats!!  
> 1.) this chapter (and next chapter) are longer than normal! :D (its not much but is something, esp for the last 3 chapters TTuTT)  
> 2.) next chapter will be a little early (maybe a day or so) beCAUSE......... I'm moving. from southern California to the middle of Iowa. it's gonna be a 3-day drive, and we're leaving Monday (no no my procrastination on this fic isn't a direct result of the stress of moving 1500 miles away from my family for the first time ever living outside the house, pshhhhh why would u even say that XD), so I'll be posting the next chapter (hopefully) the day before we leave.   
> man, yallre really going thru it w me QwQ ilyasm. we been buds since before i even knew which college i was going to. since before covid. its been real w u guys fr,,,,, ok but imma stop now before i cry  
> love u bbs!!!
> 
> check me out on Tumblr (if i can work up the courage t get back on there hehe) [ tumblr.com/blog/bmgh-writing ]   
> or on tiktok (if u wanna hear me vent abt bullshit) [ @cakelesbian ]  
> and, as always,  
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!!!! <333333


	31. They Can't Take That Away From Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (no spoilers this time, because instead I have some music to set the mood for yall:   
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uhCXXOhQ4zw   
> enjoy the extra long final chapter! :D)

**_The way you wear your hat_ **

Yuki picked the tuxes. Ma has never had an eye for fashion, neither has Dad, and the boys didn’t really care what they were wearing, so long as they got there. So Yuki picked the tuxes, because she and Ishii and Fuko (Yuki’s girlfriend, coming up on their two-year anniversary) were having a field day with researching everything that goes into a tuxedo, and between the three of them the overall aesthetic of the entire wedding was, as they put it, “wonderful.” 

Lavender and Queen Anne’s Lace are the flowers, although nobody bothered to look into the flower language meaning of those two. Yuki picked those as well, with help from Dad, who was able to call a buddy of his from work (Gotou-san) and get some of those particular flowers delivered fresh (Gotou-san, who has been hearing about Ash and Eiji and the rest of Tomoya’s family for years now, called the flowers a wedding present, and insisted that it was “really, no trouble at all, I was landscaping some of them into a senior center under construction nearby”). The flowers sit in cozy, casual bundles bound by burlap purchased in bulk by Ma from a fabric store on the tables that will be used in the reception in the Okumura backyard, and more of them adorn the chairs set up facing the little archway that Tomoya, Yuki, and Fuko hand-built from branches of a tree that fell over during a lightning storm in that little neighborhood park where Ash proposed to Eiji ten months ago. Everyone can see the scars where the lightning struck the branches that make up the archway, and the contrast with the Queen Anne's Lace is breathtakingly beautiful. 

**_The way you sip your tea_ **

Of course, some people have come a long way to see this day– you know, the ones that’ve been waiting, hoping, praying for this day going on five years now. So the spare room that used to be Eiji’s has had the furniture moved to other places to make space for Kong, Bones, Sing Soo-Ling, Max Lobo, and Nadia Wong. In the end, Nadia opts to sleep on the couch, and the boys all grumble in the dark when they kick each other in the middle of the night for a week. The Okumura household is very full that week, and lively and fun– Bones asks if he can stay forever and Eiji and Ash yell over each other that he absolutely may not (“ **get your own host family, jackass** ”) before Ma can start to say “of course, Bone-san.” 

Kong and Bones see Ash the softest they’ve ever seen him, and Eiji as jubilant as he always was when not under the weight of death threats. Sing sees Ash the way he’s been over text the past three and a half years, smiling and joking and  _ healing _ . Nadia sees what she wishes her brother could have had, and she takes pictures to show the little shrine of Shorter that she has back home (although she pays her respects to her brother at the one in Ash and Eiji’s room too). Max sees Griffin resting peacefully, knowing that his little brother finally got the happy ending he deserved, and he tries not to cry every time Ash laughs loud enough to rattle the flower vase on the Okumura’s kitchen windowsill. 

On the wedding day, they all don their formalwear as well. After all, Max will be one of the men walking Ash down the aisle, and Sing is Ash’s best man. 

**_The memory of all that_ **

Both Ash and Eiji got haircuts exactly one week prior to the wedding, before everyone from out of town arrived, sitting side by side in the barbershop chairs. The people cutting their hair were absolutely  _ gushing _ over the idea of matching haircuts for the wedding (after they realized that Ash and Eiji were the ones marrying, and not, say, groomsmen), but Ash and Eiji balked at that, and went with the haircuts they already had picked. For Eiji, just a trim (he enjoys his long hair, and promised to let Yuki braid it very intricately for the big day). For Ash, an undercut, but leave the top long please, thank you. 

When they walked out of the shop, holding hands, feeling gorgeous and loved and whole, a young man (who had likely just heard about the new legislation), glared as they passed him sitting on a bench. Both of them felt sorry for the young man because he must not know what it is to feel loved. To work for love. To almost die for love. To live for love. He will never feel the cold barrel of a gun against his temple, squeeze the trigger with his own finger, and feel the warm peace of a smile for your love before discovering the chamber to be empty. He won’t ever feel the heat of a car gas tank exploding, horror writhing in your gut when the men chasing you don’t stand up, and still the cool relief of knowing your love is with you, safe. He’ll never know these things and so he sneers at their clasped hands as they pass him on the street, and they feel nothing but pity. He’s never known love.

**_No they can't take that away from me_ **

Everyone meeting for the first time was an absolute  _ event _ . There was Kong, Bones, Sing, Max, and Nadia meeting Junko, Tomoya, Yuki, Ishii, Fuko, and Touya. They’d had to sit in a circle, like kindergarten, just so everyone could hear each other’s names. The whole evening was a chaotic mix of Japanese, English, and a bit of Mandarin slang from Nadia and Sing (and, surprisingly, Tomoya, who visits certain areas of China frequently for work). 

They treated it like a party in the Okumuras’ house. There were all kinds of snacks, homemade and store-bought. Everyone from America was simultaneously mystified and not very surprised with Ash’s newfound cooking skills (“ **new!?** ” Yuki had cried at Nadia’s comment, “ **he’s been cooking since, like, a month after he got here– ya know after he got sick that one time** –” at which Kong had interjected incredulously, “ **Ash got** **_sick!?_ ** _ ” _ and the conversation derailed into what kind of supervirus could possibly get the number one tough guy of New York City sick). 

Ma and Dad made it a point that everyone should call them just that, Ma and Dad (in whatever language they preferred, but Junko really pushed Ash’s pronunciation of “ókaa-san,” because she thinks it’s so endearing). They also made a special point of pulling Nadia aside late that night. “ **We never got to meet your brother,** ” Tomoya enunciated in careful English that he’s been practicing for four years now, “ **but we know that he saved our sons’ lives many times. Please, accept our deepest thanks, and our most sincere condolences.** ”

Nadia’s eyes watered. Nobody back home talks about Shorter’s death. Anybody who lives in the light of the sun knows what went down that day wasn’t right, wasn’t legal, and wasn’t sane. Anybody in any gang respects Shorter’s memory too much to dig into it. So right there, in the Okumura kitchen, she broke down in tears and let Junko– no, “Ma–” hold her like no mom has held her since her parents died. 

**_The way your smile just beams_ **

Eiji’s biological parents will be walking Eiji down the aisle, but Touya and Max are the men who will be walking Ash down that same aisle on the other side. Their first meeting is blundering and awkward, because that’s just how those men are, but after that and hopping over the language barrier as best they can with their limited knowledge and a translating app, they get along great. Their relative knowledge of Ash and Eiji is markedly different, however, since Max remembers them both gripping guns and scared for their lives and Touya knows them humming while they cook and taking goofy pictures with expensive professional cameras. But they can guess at each other’s experiences with the young men getting married anyway. Max can see the relaxed tilt of Ash’s shoulders, the way Eiji doesn’t look over his shoulder except when you call him from behind. Touya thinks of the way Ash had stumbled in, terrified and dissociating, when Tomoya had announced that he was coming home and the way Eiji had frowned morosely sometimes, seeing Ash hold a knife, before realizing it was to cut up chicken. 

“You are the person who takes care of Ash working?” the translating app relays from Max to Touya.

“ **Yes,** ” Touya replies with a smile and a thick accent, “ **He works at my restaurant with me. He is a good boy** .”

Max smiles, nods, and says, “Yes, he is,” in Japanese before typing the rest into a translator. Unlike Touya, who has had almost four years now to pick up on Ash’s English and practice with it on customers during tourist season, Max has had two months to learn Japanese (after the invitations were sent out), so the translator speaks for him when he says, “Thank you for taking care of him all this time– I was very worried for him.”

“ **We can speak English, Max-san. I understand most of it** .” Touya offers placidly. He smiles too, in hopes of mitigating any unintentional condescension in his tone. 

But Max doesn’t notice any accidental rudeness from Touya because he’s so relieved. “ **Oh thank fuck,** ” he replies, grinning back sheepishly, **“I was startin’ to feel like an asshole– er, pardon my French.** ”

“ **French?** ” Touya clarifies. He didn’t _hear_ any French words (and he’s no expert in American metaphors).

“ **I mean, the swearin’ and everything–…** ” Max explains.

“ **Oh! Don’t worry about that, Ash swears very often. I don’t mind** .”

And they exchanged phone numbers, and a beautiful friendship was born.

**_The way you sing off key_ **

Ash saved up for months and months– and that was  _ with _ Touya throwing a few extra yen into his paycheck every two weeks (what can he say? He loves these boys, and he knows where the money is going) before it was enough for the ring he wanted. Technically, it’s from a pawn shop three doors down from Touya’s, but it’s real gold and gorgeous and the only ring that has ever made Eiji stop and look in a window with sparkling eyes like that. So it has to be that one. Besides, if Eiji wants an expensive ring, with the diamonds or whatever, they can get that for their wedding rings– this is just an engagement ring. 

He keeps it in a satin box in his pocket for a week, waiting for the right time. The right time ends up being walking home from a date at Sakura Maid Cafe. Nobody was taking any lewd pictures this time (which is honestly hit or miss at this point, and the maids really like Ash and Eiji eating there because they’ll always be willing to call a customer out for being indecent– they call Ash their “ **tall American friend** ”). It was relaxing, and they have cute little heart cutouts that they colored in with crayons while they sipped their drinks. Honey-hued highlights filtered through the bare branches of winter trees, and Eiji thought they should take a picture. 

“ **I think you like that new camera more than you like me** ,” Ash teased.

Eiji replied, “ **Keep making fun of my camera and you can find yourself a boyfriend who doesn’t like taking pictures with you.** ” They both laughed, and Ash relented to one picture, with his gloved fingers reaching into his pocket already. 

“ **Alright, where are we standing for this one?** ” Ash asked, looking around. Of course, Eiji already had a spot in mind and pointed to a tall hickory tree in a neighborhood park across the street. There were no leaves to accessorize the branches, and nothing was particularly interesting, to Ash, about the tree itself, but Eiji has the artist's eye. Maybe it was the shape of the branches, or the cast of the shadows, or the color of the bark. If Ash applied himself, maybe he could see what Eiji saw, but he’s learning more and more that he doesn’t have to apply himself all the time, and that he and Eiji will always see different details in the same picture. What Eiji sees as a gorgeous canvas or breathtaking view, Ash sees as a potential picnic spot or a supply of hickory nuts in the fall. Loving someone doesn’t mean seeing eye-to-eye with them, it means appreciating the bigger picture together. 

And that’s all Ash could think about while Eiji lined up his perfect shot and started the camera timer and positioned Ash how he wanted him: he wants to spend the rest of his life with Eiji, appreciating the same tree together even if they see it so differently.

So while Eiji scoops up his camera from the bench where he’d set it to take the photo, and checked the picture for quality, humming with approval and turning to show Ash his work, Ash went on one knee, pulled the satin box from his pocket, and opened it to reveal a woven gold band.

Eiji recognized the ring and turned bright red, gasping and shouting, “ **Yes!** Yes! I will, yes!”

“No, stupid,  **you gotta let me ask first** .”

“Oh,  **shit** , sorry, go ahead,” Eiji said, cooling enough to contain his excitement, “I’ll turn back around and we can try again.” And he turned around, spun in a full circle, and reigned himself back enough (despite a second wave of fresh excitement) to just gasp again, without shouting.

“Eiji,  **sunshine** , will you marry me?”

“Yes!”

**_The way you haunt my dreams_ **

Max has Griffin’s picture in his inside jacket pocket. Because let’s be honest, Griff shoulda been the one holding Ash’s arm today. But Max’ll do as a replacement. He’ll havta, anyway. Touya is on Ash’s other side, where some other member of Ash’s family shoulda been. Technically, Ash’s dad (Max doesn’t remember the name– guy’s an asshole anyway, who gives a shit) received an invitation to the wedding. He shoulda at least bothered to show up. But the man– for all his heroics that one time at Ash’s old house– had the audacity to return the RSVP with “will not attend” shakily circled in pencil. Max actually called him. Planned to give the bastard a piece of his mind. But he got a slurred “ **hullo?** ” and realized that the man was too drunk for any tongue lashing to get through. Max should know, he’s been that drunk before. And, of course, who the fuck knows where Ash’s mom went. So it’s Touya on one side, and Max and Griff on the other. 

Next to the little platform serving as the altar is Sing on one side and Yuki on the other. They’re the best man and maid of honor, respectively. Unbeknownst to almost everyone, Shorter is present in three separate locations today: Sing’s jacket pocket, Nadia’s dress pocket, and Ash’s pants pocket. Kong and Bones are just next to Sing, both of them bawling their tough-guy eyes out. It’s a little bit funny, but mostly it’s making Kong’s eyeliner smear every time he wipes his eyes. On the other side of the altar, Eiji’s parents are walking him towards that little lightning-struck wooden archway, both of them grinning almost wider than the grooms themselves. 

In the little chairs accented with some flowers Max can’t name is everyone else. Nadia, Touya’s wife, Yuki’s friends, one set of Eiji’s grandparents, Eiji’s aunt, two uncles, and two cousins, Ash and Eiji’s friends from Eiji’s college days, Ibe and his wife, and empty chairs for everyone who isn’t about to say some sappy shit and kiss. 

Max hears a sniff from next to him and his eyes dart to see Ash, smiling, looking at Eiji, and crying harder than Kong or Bones or even Eiji’s crocodile-teared aunt. “ **Thanks for being here, Max** ,” he whispers, “ **it’s–** ”

“ **Hey, hey, don’t cry on your wedding day, Ash,** ” Max replies, and mobilizes the hand that isn’t on Ash’s arm to wipe his tears with a thumb. “ **I wouldn’t miss today for anything** .”

Ash sniffles again, nods. “ **Thanks for bringing Griff,** ” he says, “ **I didn’t get a chance to bring anything with me, so I–** ”

“ **How about you take this picture with you then?** ” Max suggests as they reach the altar, “ **I’ll make a copy to take home. Call it a wedding present.** ”

**_No, no they can't take that away from me_ **

“Eiji,” Ash says, “ **i** n all our time together, there has never been anything that I wouldn’t do for you, nothing I wouldn’t give, nothing I wouldn’t take. I have given you my heart, my mind, my soul. I’ve given you my feet when I was too tired to run, and you carried me. I’ve given you my arms when I couldn’t find the strength to pull myself up, and you lifted me from the depths. I’ve given you my eyes when I couldn’t bear to see another thing, my ears when everything was too loud, and my lips when the words wouldn’t come. I gave you my bones and my skin and my every cell– but today I give you the last of me. Today I give you the only thing I’ve held back, the only thing I couldn’t give you before.  **Sunshine** , I love you, and today I give you my left hand. You’ve held this left hand through so much, and I want you to hold my left hand forever. I give you my left hand, and with it all of myself. I love you, Eiji.”

**_We may never never meet again, on that bumpy road to love_ **

“ **Ash** ,” Eiji says, “ **nothing has been easy in the time I’ve known you. People have tried to kill us, we’ve been kidnapped a few times each, hurt many times over. It has been hard. But nothing has brought us down, and we are standing here, alive and in love and** **_loved_ ** **because of you. You kept us alive– you kept** **_me_ ** **alive, angel. And I’m so glad you did. Without you, I never would have been able to make it home. I never would have been able to say “** I love you” **to anyone else. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Ash. I want you. I want the parts of you that you don’t like, and the parts that the world finds gross, and the parts you hide. I want all of it. I want all of you. I love you, Ash, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you** . 

**_Still I'll always, always keep the memory of_ **

“And the grooms may now kiss.”

It’s soft and it’s public and it’s quick, but it feels like a lightning storm in every fiber of their bodies and it feels like it’s just them in their own little world like they’ve never been before and it feels like lifetimes of love lived out to their fullest. There is nothing that hurts except the flashes of Eiji’s parents’ cameras in the corners of their peripheries. There is nothing to be afraid of except Yuki’s eyeliner smearing off of Ash’s face. There is nothing to wait for except each other. It’s like the last gear clicked into place, and everything settles. The last vestiges of America finally hoisting their anchors and floating away. Even after the kiss, they hold each other for a long minute and Ash cries and Eiji rubs his back and they both smile and kiss again– knowing they’ll have a lifetime left for the rest of it. 

**_The way you hold your knife_ **

“Congratulations on the marriage,” a smooth voice hums. 

“ **Why am I not surprised to see you here?** ” Eiji grumbles into his cake.

Ash places his plastic knife discretely at Yut-Lung’s brain stem and asks, “ **Are you here to hurt anyone?** ”

Unperturbed, Yut-Lung scoffs, “ **On your wedding day? Of course not.** ”

Ash removes the knife, “ **Then why are you here?** ”

Yut-Lung smiles a placid (if mischievous) smile and shrugs daintily. “ **To pay my respects to a retired veteran** ,” he answers, “ **and to make sure a competitor is staying gone** .”

“Well, we were going to visit New York for our honeymoon,” Eiji murmurs. When Yut-Lung visibly angers, Eiji laughs, “ **I’m kidding, I’m kidding! You could not pay me money to go back there** .” Ash agrees with a matching smile and a nod.

“ **Really?** ” Yut-Lung says simply, tucking his bobbed hair behind his ear, “ **I’m glad to hear it– although Blanca will be disappointed** .”

“ **Tell that asshole to stay five miles from everyone at this reception,** ” Ash growls.

“ **Why do you think he didn’t come with me?** ” Yut-Lung points out. Then he grabs a piece of cake and a plastic fork and sashays out the front door of the Okumura residence, like he lives there or something, with a parting message, “ **Blanca says** ‘Congratulations.’  **Happy honeymoon.** ”

**_The way we dance till three_ **

There’s no orchestra or anything. Just Yuki’s speakers plugged into the outlet outside and her mp3 playlist hooked up with an aux cord. The dancefloor is a rented one for the occasion. But the whole thing seems absolutely magical to everyone when Ash and Eiji take the floor and the speakers begin to sing “They Can’t Take That Away From Me” by Ella Fitzgerald. It’s an American song, but this version is sung half in Japanese, half in English. It’s gorgeous, and it was picked by Eiji. 

This is their son, their brother, their old leader, their nephew, their cousin, their grandson their friend, now a husband to the most deserving man on the planet. It’s a happy ending for the two men who deserve it more than anyone else in the world. 

**_The way you changed my life_ **

The day after the wedding, they leave for their honeymoon at a hot spring in Hokkaido. They take a plane, and the altitude makes both of them nervous. They haven’t been on a plane since they touched down in Japan for the first time, four years ago. But the taxi to the resort is more relaxing and they arrive just after sunset. After dinner, they take a quick bath before heading straight to bed (they’re going to spend more time in the baths tomorrow, but tonight, they’re tired). The sheets are soft, the mattress firm, and the air is still just a little cold at the edge of spring. They can smell the new grass growing outside, spreading roots into rain-soft soil and uncurling blades gently into welcoming fresh air. 

Eiji watches Ash sleep, wondering if his first time sleeping in a foreign bed will awaken old fears, tremors in the night, terrors in sleep. But no. Ash’s body finally, finally has the limp, boneless characteristics of sleep. He’s comfortable and relaxed. His brow unfurrows with unconsciousness. His shoulders slump contentedly as he drifts off. His fists fray apart as he rests. Sleep, true, nurturing and without a fight, comes at last.

When Eiji, too, settles in for the night, and they pull each other close, snuggle in, and fall asleep to the rhythm of their combined breathing, they can both finally rest.

**_No, no they can't take that away from me_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aksdjfkj AAAAHHHHH its DONE!!!!! im so excited!!!! like im gonna miss yall so so much but also im excited bc this is *squints* 75,000 words!!!! that's more than a little XD  
> now, some words:  
> 1.) i know, it ain't Monday, and i know i promised an early chapter, not a late one-- sorry abt that, and thank u for understanding bc i legit moved from san diego, California, to Iowa city, Iowa last week. i drove 12 hrs a day for three days with my baby cat in the car, and no relief driver on august 3, 4, and 5. it was.... a LOT, and now we're here (me and my older sibling) in our new apartment and its great!! but we have no furniture, like, at all ^u^" and this Monday, right as i was finishing up the chapter to post, a huge ass thunderstorm called a derecho (100 mph winds 0A0) knocked out our power for 36 hours, and our wifi/cell service until literally thirty minutes ago. so, my apologies, this really was the soonest i could get this out to yall!!
> 
> 2.) thank you guys. thank you all so much. this has been an incredible journey, and i truly didn't expect this story to get as much of a following as it did! i feel so amazingly happy to be surrounded by such a lovely, loyal, and encouraging group of people as yourselves. i know i haven't responded to all of your comments yet, but each of them means so much to me! you guys have been with me since before i moved to Iowa, before i knew i was moving to Iowa, before i even finished community college, before covid was even considered a pandemic (in the dumbass u s of a)! you've been with me for so long, and I've been so lucky to have all of you. i'm so sad to leave this fic behind, but knowing it has reached so many people touches my soul, fr fr. thank you all for being here. <33333333
> 
> 3.) small side note, but PLEASE tell me yall see the metaphors, both extended and one-off in the different facets i intended them all throughout the story?? did yall notice the overarching plot's mirroring both to the original plot of the show and (more so) to the cycle of reliving a memory in a controlled and safe environment as a way to process it and move on from the trauma, which is intended both for the characters within the story and the readers?? did u remember where their wedding vows have been echoed before? did u at least look up lavender and queen anne's lace in flower language??? OwO ok ok sorry im done XD
> 
> 4.) if you want to keep up w me, and see where im going next, check me out on tumblr (if i ever get back on there) [ tumblr.com/blog/bmgh-writing ] and/or on tiktok (where i also vent abt my own trauma lmao) [ @ cakelesbian ] id love to see u in these places so we can still know each other! :DDD
> 
> and, as always, and for the last time,  
> Scream at me in the comments, nothing brings me more joy!!! :DDDDD <33333333

**Author's Note:**

> On the ninth day of Ficmas the author gave to me: nine gangsters planning, eight weeks with Eri, seven scheduled seconds, six possible meetings, five connected AUs, four male mistresses, three useless lesbians, two dumbass heroes, and a start to a Supernatural thing!


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